


Fiat

by Eternal



Series: Aequitasverse [3]
Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dad!Saazbaum - in an S2 jossed way, F/M, Gen, Horror, Romance, Tragedy/Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 99
Words: 77,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal/pseuds/Eternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years have passed...</p><p>On an alternate Earth, Saazbaum's plans have brought the full military might of Vers to bear and his forces succeeded. The war was almost been won and the Earth forces pushed to the brink of extinction.</p><p>On a wintery morning, a TARDIS crash lands, bringing with it Slaine, Inaho and Princess Asseylum, Saazbaum and a Time Lord.</p><p>Power. Impersonation. And two Saazbaums means double the trouble. And above all, a looming time paradox...</p><p>Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. [Prologue] In the Perspective of God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Season 1 Aldnoah.zero, directly after 'Intelude' and chickens but not exactly after Aequitas (certain aspects have been changed and this story is my "original" A/Z time travel story.) 
> 
> Writing began in early October, so bits of the fic have been jossed, though the story was revised to make it more S2 friendly.

_If a divine being did indeed create the universe, theologians ask, why then did the Creator put the divine power in those selfsame hands which would destroy it? – All a Matter of Creation_  
  
On the viewscreen from the landing castle, Saazbaum looked down over his domain. Winter was just setting its roots into Earth, a freezing white void coating trees and houses alike in cold. Freezing ice lashed the trees to ribbons and adorned the metal of his ship like frigid ornaments. Beneath the castle, servants scurried like ants over the castle, applying antifreeze to the worst affected areas. Further below, footsoldiers marched in ordered platoons carrying flags and firearms proclaiming their loyalty VERS Empire in drills.  
  
In little under three years, Earth’s forces had been decimated by VERS forces and their superior technology. The few remaining rebels had retreated underground, hoping to avoid the gunfire and machinery through guerrilla force. He had sent waves of forces to root out and destroy opposition and in response the rebel factions had torched food supplies in territories they had retreated from. A burnt Earth policy. Saazbaum’s records indicated that it was a brutal and somewhat efficient strategy to prevent the conquerors retaining control of the resources it had captured in past Terran conflicts, however it had failed when VERS sent reinforcements and supplies via ships to Earth.  
  
Now, the rats huddled in the white, as silent as a grave trying to escape their self-inflicted famine and unable to access the supplies buried in the UFE during the descent of Saazbaum’s landing castle.  
  
A fitting punishment, he thought, sneering slightly.  
  
The commanding officer saluted him smartly when he stepped below deck.  
  
‘Sir!’ She said, dressed in paramilitary dark blue and red. ‘A VERS diplomatic envoy has been dispatched and is awaiting your presence.’  
  
 ‘I’ll meet with them immediately.’ He said drily. As he left, the viewscreen processed hundreds of miles of white and then scrolled in, zooming into a man dressed in a bottle green velvet cloak. A single person in a snowfield. He raised his eyes and looked directly at the camera.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the odd chance that anyone from the DW fandom is reading this the fic is set post Dark Eyes 3 for Liv with the nicer ("Tigger") Eighth Doctor from the books. DW Timeline = Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey Stuff.


	2. [Part 1] The Bell’s Calling

Far away, a blue box was spinning through the vast depths of the vortex. 

Inaho was making breakfast. He split an egg and was frying it on a pan with a generous helping of oil. He flipped it in one perfect arc making Asseylum gasp and yawn, both at the same time. 

‘Good morning,’ she said smiling. Slaine was slumped over his bowl of sugared cornflakes and was spooning some of it into his mouth with his long limber hands. Anji was already onto her second crumpet, pouring over a copy of Economist Weekly.

She folded it over one hand and said, ‘So I’m assuming we’re going to take that suitcase of yours to the UEF.’

‘Hmm,’ said Inaho. ‘Well it’s got everything they’ll need in it.’ He still had his eyes half closed in an inscrutable expression and the white apron tied around his waist.

‘Give or take a couple of seeds for apple trees, you mean.’ Her face spun into a smile. ‘Good morning handsome.’

Saazbaum had just finished towelling his hair. He had felt rather out of sorts waking up to the feeling of tingling numbness due to blood supply being cut from his body by various bony limbs. That and the chicken feathers plastered to his hair and clothes. ‘Please don’t address me so informally,’ he informed her gravely and folded the towel over his chair and sat down, but there was a hint of a smile around his solemn features. It vanished when he looked at Inaho.

‘They’re not the chickens we bought yesterday.’ Inaho was saying from where he was cooking the eggs. ‘These are eggs, what hens lay, just in case you are confused.’

Anji mumbled something along the lines of ‘living under a rock these past decades.’ She shut up when Saazbaum shot her an exasperated glance, clearly more accustomed to a lifetime spent around obedient servants and obsequious bureaucrats. 

‘I thought you said that you weren’t going to purchase any live hens.’

Inaho only smiled as he dished out them out platefuls and handed them forks. ‘By the way, if you eat that many pancakes, you’ll make yourself sick, Count Saazbaum.’ 

The man ignored him, tucking into breakfast. A feline wandered in, trotting across the table to where a stack of pancakes sat, causing him to glower. Saazbaum probably would have regretted ignoring the advice and giving into the mouthwatering smell, had the TARDIS not chosen to flip sideways causing their seats causing their meals slipped out from underneath them.

‘The Doctor’s a maniac.’ Anji shook her head. ‘But anyway, I think I’d best be going. This is my stop.’ She grinned. ‘Maybe we’ll meet up again, it’s always difficult to tell whether that’ll be the case or not.’


	3. Device

_Some likened it to Pandora’s Box, a creation containing all the world’s evils and a single thread of hope._ – A Classic Digest of Terran Mythology  
  
Shortly after dropping Anji off at her Earth smoke clung to the walls of the TARDIS like a blanket and pouring down the console room.  
  
‘This doesn’t look too good,’ The Doctor said, examining the TARDIS controls and gave it an extra few whacks with the palms of his hands for good measure. He ran around the hexagonal panel dialling and pinging various levers and buttons in a hidden ritual that only he could understand.  
  
‘Anything that I could do?’ Slaine asked the Doctor helpfully and was handled a nozzle to put out the fire.  
  
‘Turn it on,’ The Time Lord grinned, flashing white teeth. Together with the panels, he was turned into a Styrofoam iceberg.  
  
Inaho raised one eyebrow. ‘You know, in Earth literature there is a story about an Abominable Snowman, whom you greatly resemble.’ The Doctor cracked a grin and with a few groans and jarring wheezes the Doctor managed to materialise them somewhere else in an attempt to get them closer to their Earth.  
  
He ran another series of diagnostics and scratched his head, but the Doctor’s face was still long. ‘No dice. The Time Rotor’s still stalled and now the scanner’s jammed too. I think we’re stuck here for the time being.’  
  
‘At least we’ll get to see something new, right?’ The Princess asked.    
  
The Time Lord threw open the doors to the TARDIS. Outside a blizzard raged. He held open his hands a little and a few snowflakes landed on his fingertips and dissolved a little slowly as he rubbed the pads together. ‘The weather’s a bit unseasonable if we are on Earth.’ He cautiously took a few steps out, fingers still gripping the sides of the time machine. He scanned the horizons. Mountains rose like the tines of pitchforks in the distance.  
  
‘Well the air’s breathable.’ He’d barely said those words when he felt a little rumble in his mind. He frowned and turned his head to one side. Like a mental avalanche, several undiluted tonnes of psychic feedback crashed down on his senses. He hit the floor in seconds, swaying as he pressed his hands to his temples in agony.           
  
‘Doctor!’ Slaine shouted. The Time Lord was out before he hit the floor.  
  
Deep in the TARDIS the Cloister Bell was tolling, a chilling sound which shook the very marrow of his bones.


	4. Wake

_Some say_ the _world will end in fire_ , _Some say_ in _ice_.—Robert Frost

Saazbaum slowly woke to the cold and the crisp smell of burning in the winter air. He groaned and attempted to remove the snowflakes which clung to his hair and his first thought was to reprimand Trilliam for mismanaging the Landing Castle’s temperature settings.  
  
Then it slowly came back. A near death experience and a time machine. He stood up in the painful cold, trying to gain his bearings when he saw an enormous burning column of flames enveloping a police box.  
  
It became clear to him very quickly that they weren’t going anywhere fast.  
  
Still, the amount of fire that was being emitted was surprising. Saazbaum wondered how many of the Doctor’s possessions had to have been consumed to fuel the blaze and then suppressed a shiver.  A short distance away, the Time Lord was still unconscious, one hand outstretched and the other pressed to his face. Asseylum was in a similarly bad way although Slaine was trying to wake her up.  
  
Footsteps crunched in the ice.  
  
‘An intense exothermic reaction.’ Inaho surmised. ‘It must be creating a lot of heat for the blaze to continue amongst all the ice.’ It was true, a lot of the ice near the Time Machine had been turned to wet slush or entirely vapourised. He was the only one amongst them with the sense to wear some remotely warm before exiting the kitchen. Still, the boy was shivering since he’d left his jumper on Asseylum’s prone form although he did the best to conceal it.  
  
Saazbaum raised an eyebrow. ‘You weren’t unconscious?’  
  
‘Well somebody, had to drag you all out of the wreckage. Not that it will help in our long term survival due to hypothermia.’ The boy said meaningfully. ‘Although I do wonder… How are you feeling?’  
  
‘As if somebody has just pounded my skull in with a hammer,’ the Count said irately, gingerly probing the top of his skull with his fingers.  
  
Slaine simply nodded in agreement. Both he and Saazbaum had chosen a particularly bad day to not wear their uniforms. Although the material was thin, it was highly insular and designed to withstand some of the stresses of space travel. Cotton T-shirts, on the other hand, were more suited towards a holiday in Hawaii then midwinter.    
  
The Doctor and Asseylum were still unconscious so they hastily constructed a makeshift sled and dragged them to the nearest civilisation. Ice was beginning to collect in his hair and he was beginning to feel a cold wet gather in their shoes.  
  
There was a colossal dark lotus shaped object piercing through metal and destroyed buildings like a parasite in the distance.  
  
‘That’s definitely a Landing Castle.’ Inaho observed grimly, shielding his eyes as they walked past silent buildings. As they closed the distance he thought that he could see a smaller dark shaped object. Saazbaum said nothing about it, but his face was set in a deep frown though he was non-committal.  
  
The thought of perhaps seeing his friends again made Inaho’s heart race with the prospect, despite the possibility that they were all dead. He quickened his steps slightly. The few ramshackle houses with the roofs of corrugated iron showed no signs of occupation.  
  



	5. Coming

_If Heaven’s Fall resulted in catastrophic meteorological shifts, the second coming of the Martians wrought even more abuse upon nature. The summers lengthened the days by hours longer than normal, causing droughts and waves of blistering heat. In the winters, it was the nights which lengthened. Living things rarely stirred as blizzards increased in frequency._ – The Pawns of the 21st Century: Earth and Mars

Inaho picked a house at random. ‘Hello,’ he called.  
  
There was no one there. The roof offered some protection from the cold but a massive hole had been obliterated in the rafters and snow was still able to fall through. He saw two coffee cups lined up, though the drink had long since frozen.  
  
‘Perhaps I should select another house.’ That was Saazbaum. He shifted his weight slightly from his left to his right foot.    
  
‘No, the hole is recent.’ Inaho decided. ‘There might still be Kaphrakts in this region and since we have no clue when we are or if there’s still a war going on, we should stick together as a group and hope that there’s an underground shelter nearby.’  
  
‘Over here,’ Slaine waved. He’d managed to find an unused service tunnel with a hatch. By then, the Princess had also awoken, although she was softly crying. The tears were frozen to her face.  
  
With some co-ordination, they managed to lower the Doctor carefully down the ladder by angling him down the rungs. After a short stretch of darkness, there was another hatch. Slaine clambered carefully down the rungs.  
  
‘Slaine?’ Inaho enquired, peering down into the hole.  
  
The boy’s muffled voice floated back up. ‘I think there’s somebody down here.’ There was the sound of dripping water. ‘I think I can hear footsteps.’  
  
There was a suppressed cry and the sound of something moving across the stone. And then, abruptly silence. Then the only sound was the dripping of water.  
  
‘Slaine?!’ There was no response.  
  
Before Inaho could object, Saazbaum was down the ladder taking two rungs at a time. ‘You stay up here and look after the Princess and the Doctor. I’ll look for Slaine.’  
  
‘For god’s sake, be careful,’ Inaho retorted but the Martian had already clambered to the bottom of the ladder. ‘What now?’  
  
Asseylum was looking at something outside, eyes widening into tentative saucers.  
  



	6. Search

_There were other, subtler, changes too. Humans, the wiser ones, did not retreat underground due to the frequent natural disasters, but due to the bombings. In tropical regions, storm and hurricane shelters were replaced by bomb and nuclear proof basements. The price of RPF materials tripled in the last two months of the war. Global and Regional Climate_ – The Pawns of the 21st Century: Earth and Mars

‘Cursed Terran boy.’ Saazbaum muttered as he tentatively edged his way down towards where Slaine had gone. He had other descriptions for Doctor Troyard’s wayward son who seemed hellbent on getting himself into stupidly dangerous schemes but decided not to use them out loud as he blindly groped his way into the darkness. The ground sloped down gently.  
  
‘Slaine?’ He listened and heard the sound of breathing amongst the sound of water hitting the floor.  
  
‘I’m alive, I just tripped. I think I sprained my ankle.’ The boy said, embarrassed. ‘You might want to watch where you step because ahead a large section of the floor has been destroyed and that’s where I’m trapped.’  
  
‘Can you walk?’  
  
After a short pause, Slaine said ‘Maybe in a little while.’  
  
A few careful manoeuvres and arranged sounds later listening for Slaine’s direction and his fingers finally brushed across a Slaine sized lump.  
  
‘Ok, you’ve got my back.’  
  
‘Well just lean backwards a little and tilt your head back and I’ll carry you.’  
  
Slaine’s embarrassment was immediate and awkward. ‘What? No!’ But before he could further protest a voice shouted in the distance.  
  
‘Put your hands above your head where I can see them!’ Called out a male voice in the darkness and there was a sound of a rifle being readied. ‘Who are you and what is your business here?’  
  
‘My friend here has just sprained his ankle and is injured, unable to move, another of our companions is suffering from hypothermia and is currently unconscious. The five of us walked through a blizzard to seek shelter.’ Saazbaum called out in a measured tone.  
  
There was a sound of a whispered conversation before the male voice resumed. ‘I’ll come to you. Wait a minute.’  There was more footsteps and the pinging of boots and a heavy duty light was switched on. In the searing brightness, the Count could make out heavy combat uniform as he shielded his eyes and the larger part of his face from the light. He couldn’t afford to be recognised.  
  
The soldier was a little older than Slaine and his eyes grew huge when he took in their faces. His eyes rested on Saazbaum in particular. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said, his voice growing terse in a tone of warning, one hand resting on the butt of his gun and the other cradling the flashlight. ‘There’s something about your voice... Sir, please take your hand away from your face, step away from the boy and put up your hands.’  
  
‘I can’t. He’s too badly injured.’  
  
The soldier put the flashlight on the ground raised his gun. ‘Do it immediately,’ he ordered, ‘Or I swear to God I’ll kill you and your companion on sight. Move!’  
  
Saazbaum reluctantly stood aside and put his hands up. ‘I’m not who you think I am.’ he said flatly.  
  
Calm, what’s going on?’ The communicator in the soldier’s belt spewed in a staticky stream.  
  
‘Call in reinforcements immediately, I’ve just run into Viceroy Saazbaum of the Orbital Knights in the tunnels. Out.’ The soldier said, ending the call without taking his eyes or his gun off Saazbaum or his protégé.  
   
The soldier took in one jerky breath and his entire face twisted in disbelief. ‘Call off your Kataphrakts. Now.’ He pointed the gun at Saazbaum’s head and then at Slaine.  
  
‘I can’t.’  
  
‘What do you mean, you can’t.’ The soldier bellowed, spittle flying out of his mouth. Livid. ‘You started this entire war, didn’t you? Do you know how many of my friends, family members you are responsible for? Call them off or this ends here!’ He fired a warning shot above Saazbaum’s head but the Count didn’t even flinch. He just inched a little closer to Slaine who was breathing was jerky. The boy had spotted Inaho out of the corner of his eyes.  
  
‘In actual fact, he’s telling the truth. I don’t think he’d be able to call off the Kataphrakts even if he knew how.’ A voice said matter-of-factedly. Inaho stepped out of the shadows where he’d been watching the entire exchange. Asseylum wasn’t far behind. ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it Calm?’  
  
The soldier – just a boy – lurched as if he’d been shot.  
  
‘How?’ he asked, almost petrified of the answer.  
  
‘It’s a very long story.’  
  
Inaho opened his hands tentatively, bowing his head slightly. Calm ran up and hugged him, wrapping one arm right across his friend’s body, sobbing small stricken tears of happiness.  
  



	7. Rule

_With the majority of the Earth’s free population underground, it is impossible to estimate how far the subterranean networks run or how many rebels still exist, separated from the planet’s surface in self-imposed exile of hundreds of metres of rock and earth. Certainly, the rebels have made the number difficult to approximate, as every day many tunnels are discovered by Vers troops and promptly collapsed to limit the number of casualties._   – The Pawns of the 21st Century: Earth and Mars  
  
Viceroy Saazbaum stood at the sitting Emperor’s right hand side in the prime position of power, still unaware that a younger version of himself had descended to Novosibirsk. He was attending the conference in person. Where traditionally the 37 families had once served Rayregalia equally, now they stood apart from each other, distanced depending on the amount of influence they now wielded.  
  
At the far end of the Audience Chamber of the First sat the disgraced Aramis, who family had remained conscientious objectors to the war. His brother had been hanged for his activities in undermining the war effort but it was only the grace of the Emperor which he had been allowed to live and retain his privileges as Orbital Knight in name only. Other Clans had not faired better. Of the 37 sworn families arranged in a crescent formation around the table, only 23 had living representatives. Notably, Saazbaum’s old acquaintance, Cruhteo’s entire force had been decimated and Orlane was absent.  
  
The Viceroy dissembled sadness, but underneath his solemn grief and professional detachment he was smiling.  
  
An upright woman with a bob cut and severe gaze but frail expression was displayed on the screen. Rayregalia himself was present dressed in formal garb, a smart double breasted overcoat, with silken loops of blond hair falling to the ground.  
  
‘On behalf of the UNF, I, commanding officer Azani Duresh, the last surviving commanding officer do offer an unconditional surrender on behalf of Earth’s Forces to the Martians and humbly beseech the Martian forces to uphold this peace. We capitulate.’  
  
‘You agree to cede the territory of the Earth and all its resources to the Martians and understand that all treaties and rights held by all nationalities upon Earth are henceforth nullified.’ Rayregalia said solemnly.  
  
For a single moment, the woman hesitated. Her limbs trembled at her side. ‘We do.’  
  
‘You understand that any resistance to Martian Troops as organised by the UNF will be meted out with severe and indiscriminately punishment?’  
  
‘We do.’  
  
‘Then we shall grant every Terran who surrenders honestly in accord with our treaty full diplomatic immunity from martial rule henceforth. This meeting is now adjourned whilst I discuss with my colleagues the proper course of action for offenders and criminals of war. ’  
       
Things were not going in Saazbaum’s or the other Orbital Knight’s favour and the whispers were rising.  
  
‘Three years of war and what has it won us if we don’t punish these offenders,’ A short elderly man with thinning white hair was saying. Count Mnevalisse was a shrewd man with a penchant for managing his own fortune and Saazbaum knew that he had managed to launch a successful Transatlantic weapons cartel selling arms to both sides of the war although he hadn’t descended his Landing Castle. He also knew that the man wasn’t interested in waging any war of his own as it simply wasn’t profitable.    
  
The Viceroy calmed his temper, again into a dutiful smile, secure in the knowledge that he would use his newfound powers to arrange an accident for the man. The board only had space for pawns, not resilient pieces trying to annex parts of the Earth as private property.  
  
The Viceroy leaned over to the Emperor. He whispered urgently: ‘Ask Duresh what of Magbaredge, this damned woman’s covert operations have been thwarting our plans. We have to decimate these rebel forces first, since we do not have full control over the underground shelters and tunnels in the cities.’  
  
The Emperor’s eyes traversed horizontally in a minute shift. ‘I see.’ He let out a deep sigh. ‘It will be done, Viceroy, much as I weary for war.’  
  
‘I have another request my liege. Even the unarmed, the UNF military stand as a symbol of hope for the Terran people. We should execute these leaders and their soldiers whose negligence allowed the assassination attempt to occur.’ He said quickly.  
  
Rayregalia gave a pause and a slight shake of his head, looking away. ‘Saazbaum, I will not consent to a massacre.’  
      
‘Would you give the murderers political amnesty as well?’ the Viceroy said a little more sharply than he intended. ‘They’ve killed plenty of our numbers. They killed Cruhteo, my dear friend as you know and many others too.’  
  
It was a necessary lie to cover up his actions, of course.  
  
‘I will give you the leaders, Viceroy. Do as you will.’ He said heavily. Saazbaum took careful note that the man was using his title, not his names. ‘But you are a little eager to punish the perpetrators.’  
  
The Viceroy opened his mouth to defend his words, but the Emperor said, ‘I do value your judgement, my friend. In these dark days you have brought me many hopes and helped to achieve many aspirations. But as an emperor, it is important that we do not search for enemies where there is none. What were your words, to me, that day after Heaven’s Fall?’  
  
In his mind’s eye, Saazbaum flashed back to the day in Tanegashima when Orlane had almost died and his trust in the Terrans had been broken forever. ‘I will break the cycle of hatred.’ He recited.  
  
‘Try not to forge a cycle anew when you are busy breaking it.’ The Emperor flashed him a wan smile, a genuine one. ‘Don’t look for a war when one has already be won. That is the cornerstone of my beliefs.’  
  
One of these days, I will kill this man. Saazbaum thought, closing his eyes as a sudden tiredness threatened to engulf him. But not today.  
  
And for that he was grateful even as the grounds of Novosibirsk were sullied with blood, the heads of the UNF leaders raining so that the trees could grow agin.    
  



	8. Reunion

_I miss my mother. She was a genuinely kind and thoughtful person. If I could choose anybody to live again, it would be her._ – Excerpts from the War  
  
Calm had reverted to his cheerful disposition again, as if the clouds had lifted. He held two arms behind his head as he conducted an animated conversation.  
  
‘Ah, Inaho so much as changed in these past few years.’  
  
‘I’ve actually lost count of how many years have passed.’ And it was true. What if the Doctor had skipped ahead a few years? What if they had landed in a time when all his friends were long gone?  
  
‘We never found your corpse, you know. For days after Deucalion crashed, we searched the wreckage. So many people had died, though no one we know. Inaho, Yuki cried for days.’ Calm said, face turning into a grim hard line. ‘Those Martian bastards… Apologies to the ladies.’  
  
A little remorse was creeping into Slaine’s eyes. One side of his face had a bandaid covering a few deep scratches and he was still having a little difficulty walking.  
He was more relaxed then Saazbaum, however. The Count was as stiff as a motorised doll, despite his attempt to relax into a slouch into the thin cotton T shirt and jeans. He’d had practice fitting into places and playing parts as he travelled with the Doctor, but no amount of rehearsal would erase the discomfort of two eyes drilling holes into the back of his skull.  
  
The hooded girl stayed two paces behind, always putting pressure on his relaxed expression.  
  
Internally, he was seething that one of Asseylum’s assassins had survived Trilliam in this timeline. The girl was dangerous, she potentially knew that he was behind the plot, whereas he had no clue what was going on. All he knew was that on this Earth there was a second him walking around which was going to quickly complicate matters quickly. Sooner or later something was going to happen and he was going to be exposed and he was treading on shaky, shaky ground.  
  
Calm, on the other hand, seemed to be more easily persuaded, but still he had the look of a curious cat which didn’t bode well for the Count. ‘You do look and sound a lot like Saazbaum you know,’ He said quickly as if he was deliberately trying to raise girl’s suspicions further.  
  
The Count risked a quick glance behind him, the girl – Rayet had shifted her eyes so they pointed at the floor, hood still slung over her head. ‘But I mean you couldn’t possibly be him if you’ve been with Inaho all this time.’  
  
‘Well it’s a rather common mistake to make.’ Saazbaum said, forcing a light jovial tone into his voice. ‘My name’s Ryuta.’  
  
‘You look American.’ The blond haired boy said without skipping a beat. ‘Though I think I’m going to call you Salsa.’ Calm pronounced. When Saazbaum didn’t make any sort of acknowledgement, the boy said, ‘Relax mate, it’s only a joke. I mean, Inaho over there is Eggs, I’m Apples and Yuki is Carrots.’ He said in a private whisper and patted the Count’s back in what was clearly intended to be a gesture of camaraderie. ‘Anyway, I’ll see you at dinner.’  
  
The Count rolled his eyes to heaven, affixed an additional fake smile to his expression and was the first to walk into the ward.  
  



	9. Starling

_For aliases, a name was best when it made the lambs stop screaming_. – Aliases and Pseudonyms (Possible reference subject – Thomas Harris)  
  
Doctor Starling wheeled back on her chair and collected her notes. She clicked the pen in her hand. It wasn’t digitised, unlike the ones back on Mars.  
  
‘Are you sure he’s ok?’ Slaine said, pressing his hands to the glass. It was warm to touch, the Doctor’s head lolled slightly but he was otherwise blissful. A breathing mask had been put over the Time Lord’s face and a blood pressure monitor had been clipped to one finger.    
  
‘We suspected hypothermia at first but it seems his core body temperature is regulating itself to a steady 15.6 degrees Celsius and he appears to have two hearts. That tends to make the unconsciousness difficult to diagnose.’ Doctor Starling said. ‘However, he seems physically fine.’  
  
‘What would be your suggested course of treatment, Doctor?’ Saazbaum asked lightly. Inaho was consulting his smartphone, scrolling with the tip of one finger.  
  
‘A few weeks in here. We’ll monitor his progress and see if he improves later on.’ Doctor Starling paused. ‘Where did you meet him exactly?’  
  
‘Does it matter?’ Asseylum asked.  
  
‘No, Princess.’ Starling was already rolling away. ‘Please forgive my curiosity. I’m just reminded of my friend.’  
  
‘That’s ok! Well he’s definitely not Martian, if that’s what you’re asking.’ Or human, she thought silently.  
  
‘Cou-,’ Asseylum caught herself just in time, ‘Ryuta where are you going?’  
  
Saazbaum was walking towards the door. ‘I shall be at dinner in half an hour. I have a few things to check first.’  
  


* * *

 

  
‘Seb’ proved to be very interested in the information, narrowing the number of individuals that he could be down further.  
  
Not that Starling was under any illusions of his identity. She thought, briefly, of contacting Narvin about the Doctor, but immediately quelled those thoughts.  
  
Trust, it was such a lost cause.  
  



	10. Mice

_The shot heard around the world became more of a metaphor than a description, following the Martian invasion. Properly described, it was heard on two worlds, not one, and even if it wasn’t taken at face value, Mars and Earth were so heterogeneous that the comparison fell flat._ – Reformation of History: The 21st Century Interplanetary Approach  
  
He walked over to the computers banks. The living quarters of the Terrans were surprisingly well organised for structures which had been built underground in solid concrete bunkers, though they did not favour the organic hexagonal pattern which was prevalent on Mars. The monitors up ahead provided the directions guiding him to a row of computer terminals. He chose a terminal at random and sat down, pretending to understand the basics of the internet.  
  
The technological advances of the Terrans had clearly allowed some minor communications to escape the jamming.  
  
As expected, Rayet had tailed him all the way to the computer laboratories and he was not surprised to hear a thunk as the door slid closed behind her. And she was holding a gun, eyes narrowed into daggers.  
  
‘Hello Viceroy.’ She said in disgust. So she did know. When she stepped closer, a little of his smug confidence began fading and suddenly the decision to make an appearance felt a little less wise.  
  
‘I want you to leave Asseylum alone. You can have me, but you can’t have her. Understand?’ He said with easy defiance.  
  
She started laughing, then. If something that was all sarcasm and bite could be counted as humour. ‘Is this all you can manage? Mind games?’ She closed the distance. ‘Guess who saw Asseylum and Inaho being shot.’  
  
  
He turned his head slightly to the left. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ But he did have an inkling about what had happened that fateful day aboard his landing castle.  
  
‘Dead bodies, Viceroy Saazbaum, don’t spontaneously return to life.’ She said with a soft coldness. ‘Calm might not have seen you kill them, but I did. You either had two very convincing set of doubles or brought in replacements.’  
  
‘This isn’t what you think this is.’ He spoke steadily. The situation worsened rapidly after that, not that he was in a particularly excellent situation to begin with after trekking from the burning time machine in midwinter. Now, more than ever, he felt the pressure of exhaustion. He raised his empty hands as if to show the fact that he was unarmed.  
  
The bullet went a hairsbreadth over Saazbaum’s head indicating that he had made a grave mistake.  
  
‘Walking without a weapon into an enemy base. Exactly what I expected a smug and incompetent Martian to do. Do you have any idea how much I hate you guys? Four years of pain you’ve caused me after the deaths of my parents and your treachery. Do you know how completely free I felt when Calm said that he found you stupidly wandering the tunnels?’  
  
‘Well to begin with, I’m not actually a Viceroy and the other me isn’t a double, not in the conventional sense.’  
  
‘You talk too much.’ She calmly aimed the gun. He reached for it. She simply shot him through the leg. It fractured his tibia causing red to splash to the ground and he was thrown back a little by the force. He wondered absently what would happen if he died on a parallel Earth.  
  
The voice of self-preservation was berating him for coming alone.  
  
‘Isn’t it awfully convenient that the other me looks exactly like me?’ He argued, trying to ignore the crushing agony.  
  
‘I wouldn’t be below you to use a hologram,’ she retaliated scornfully and stepped down hard on his broken leg causing pain to erupt from the fractured area.  
  
He was an unable to suppress the gasp of pain this time, but he managed to continue with a great deal of effort.  ‘Holograms can’t replicate speech patterns and behavioural patterns. I come from an alternate reality. That’s why the Princess and Inaho you met are still alive.’ He said with his face against the floor. She wasn’t interested in the existential argument and picked up the plastic chair which he’d been sitting on and smashed it into his upper torso.  He felt himself slide backwards as stars of pain burst out behind his eyes and he hit the floor.  
  
Punctured ribs weren’t a good sign and he surprised himself by managing to drag himself to one side of the room so that the blow hit his left ribs instead of his right, breaking them as well. ‘How does it feel to be wronged the way you wronged me?’  
  
He coughed and spat out blood. When he moved, nubs of bones moved. It hurt to shift his body and it hurt even to breathe, but somehow he still managed words.  
  
‘I’m telling the truth.’ He said dully.  Surviving Slaine’s bullets to die later on an Earth which wasn’t even his own. Fate was laughing at him.  
  
She brought the chair down again.  
  
‘You killed my parents. Show some remorse, you monster and I’ll end you quickly.’ She dangled the firearm over his face. ‘One bullet through your head and it’ll be all over.’  
  
He stared up at the ceiling watching blood pool everywhere. Some of it managed to trickle into his eyes. Maybe he could crawl. Just a little. He moved his shattered just a little to the doorway, using his arms to gain momentum.  
  
‘Say something, damn it.’ She cursed and shot him through the foot. He barely felt the pain amongst all his other assembled injuries, which he knew was a bad sign. He was an entire river of agony, but he lacked the energy to even cry out.  
  
Another one.  
  
She grabbed him by the neck and shook him the gun forgotten on the ground. She was shouting something incoherent and crying. The world begun to narrow in on itself. He smiled, rueful towards the bitter end.  
  
She dropped him and with a carefully neutral expression opened the door and walked out without resealing it, clearly shaken.  
  
When he hit the floor, he vomited up more blood, coating the floor in thick red.  
  



	11. Missing

_There is the distant thwup of helicopter, a figure dressed in darkly coloured clothes, presumably a journalist looks up, possibly expecting an attack from the Martians in the airspace. Down below, thick trails of smoke travel from destroyed buildings, this is presumably the site of the latest battle. We zoom in, the woman. It is clear that she has a journalist, but from her embittered expression and the state– chewed fingernails, chapped skin and tired eyes – she has long since given up hope._ – Visual Blackbox footage – from a plane crash above New Guinea  
  
Saazbaum wasn’t at dinner in the mess hall. He wasn’t in his room either. Asseylum had checked twice and the hallways too, the recreation room, together with the armoury room and the underground storage with the other Areions.  
  
He wasn’t answering any calls either. All five had been missed, on the screen of the phone she’d picked up from an alternate Earth was glowing. The Doctor had modified them to work across all the timezones so they woked independently of Earth’s communication networks.    
  
‘Maybe he left to go back and fight the war,’ Slaine suggested. ‘After all, we’re stranded here and without the Doctor, we’ll never be able to go back to our time again.’  
  
‘Don’t be silly.’ She chewed her bottom lip anxiously. ‘This isn’t our Earth, is it? If we split up, we might never be able to go back home.’ She said. The tears threatened to fall but she kept them in and she resisted the urge to throw the phone away.  
  
It chose that moment to trill. ‘Get here now. –Inaho.’

* * *

  
  
Inaho was growing increasingly agitated as he paced his small frame back and forth in the mess hall.  
  
A large screen was set into one of the walls airing a news broadcast.  
  
‘Earth has issued an unconditional surrender to the Martian Troops and ceded all territory and resources to the VERS empire. Speaking on behalf of the Emperor Viceroy Saazbaum has offered an immediate ceasefire and amnesty to all soldiers to offer themselves up, warning that all efforts to incite rebellion will be met with harsh force. However, the leaders of the UNF will not be pardoned or granted trial.’  
  
Then there was a graphic scene of the Viceroy grimly ordering the massacre of the surrendered UNF leaders who were kneeling, tied to a wall. Blood splattered everywhere as the bullets tore their skin, organs, bone and flesh apart.  
  
‘Surely Saazbaum wouldn’t do something like that?’ Asseylum said a little horrified. Slaine gagged.  
  
‘It’s a practical method of deterrence and making an example for anyone who attempts to revolt. ’ Inaho stated. ‘Besides, give a person a few years of war and that’s where he’ll be. It’s in his personality. He shot you didn’t he?’ He shrugged.  
  
Onto the screen scrolled a list of rewards for the capture and execution of UNF leaders for their crimes in instigating revolution against the VERS empire.  
  
‘Is that our Saazbaum?’ Slaine spoke.  
  
‘No.’ Inaho said with calm certainty. ‘Even if he’s left to join the other Orbital Knights he’ll have a three year memory gap which will be difficult to explain since he’ll have no idea what happened in that time and it’s impossible to attain that level of control within a few hours. No, if Calm recognised Saazbaum that means that there really are two of him. This is the definitive proof that we’ve landed on the wrong Earth. Prepare your things, the instant this blizzard ends we’re going back to the TARDIS.’  
  
‘We can’t leave people like Magbaredge to be executed by VERS?’ Asseylum argued. ‘She’s our friend!’  
  
Inaho turned slightly and said with cold logic. ‘This isn’t our war and this isn’t our Earth. These people aren’t the ones that we know even if they have the same faces. Sentimentality is going to get us killed 3 years and a whole planet away from our home and who knows what will happen if we interfere with this planet’s future?’  
  
‘So we’re just going to leave these people to die,’ Asseylum retorted, horrified. ‘Are we going to leave without about the Doctor and Saazbaum too?’  
  
‘We’ll take the Doctor with us and I think Saazbaum has already made his decision. Wait.’ Inaho cocked his head. ‘Rayet isn’t here. She was with us before.’  
  
‘Her parents were killed.’ Asseylum said slowly. ‘She wanted to get revenge for the death of her parents.’  
  
Slaine’s eyes widened to discs. ‘She’s probably seen Saazbaum’s face. If he was behind the murder of her parents this is the perfect opportunity to get revenge.’  
  
Inaho swore softly and set off at a run down the corridor. ‘I don’t like that Martian but it might present a problem if he ends up dead. The body, for one thing.’  
      
‘Something like the universe imploding?’ Slaine guessed. ‘Isn’t there a cosmic law against this sort of thing?’  
  
‘Well I’m no expert.’ retorted Inaho plainly. ‘Wait.’ He said cocking his head to one side like a curious dog.  
  
The ceiling was there one moment and the next it had been sheared away in the mess hall. Some civilians were screaming and the alarm system caused wailing and the activation of showers coating everything in wet mortar and dust.  
  
No that assessment wasn’t correct. The roof had bent upwards until the soil and the struts supporting the ceiling could no longer support the weight. The remains of the roof was suspended in midair, insulation and beams the whole lot.  
  
‘Deucalion,’ Inaho’s face was set. Martian soldiers poured in from either side.  
  



	12. Games

_Pictured below is a photograph of a 1950s chess tournament, reprint requested by Miranda Dawkins. The man in the velvet jacket is an anachronistic oddity and should be ignored in favour of presenting a reasonable and non biased historical record of the game._  
  
The Doctor was playing chess against one of his previous incarnation on a wooden table, as there wasn’t much else one could do when unconscious. Although the majority of his mental reserves were being diverted into planning, the balancing of time equations and reflection on the future there was plenty of juice, so to speak, for a single chess match.  
  
The table had been recreated from an 1864 housing establishment he had once entered with Ace. Or was that Zoe?  
  
His second incarnation was an agreeable chap with a fondness for the recorder. He castled his king with his right hand.  
  
‘Well I suppose it’s your turn, Lord Byron.’ The Eighth Doctor’s penchant for Victorian era clothing was something of an oddity amongst his other selves.  
  
The current Doctor moved his pawn and took a Knight. It had been a stalemate for the past few hours although he was gradually getting the upper hand.  
  
‘Nice move.’ The Second Doctor said approvingly. ‘I’m glad that I’ll be improving in the future.’  
  
The conversation and game was interrupted by an enormous sound which reverberated in the confines of the shared mental space. Light was appearing in the ceiling.  
  
‘Kaphrakts, probably.’ The Second Doctor took the board and tipped the chesspieces back into the drawstring bag which had appeared on the table. ‘Well it was nice playing with you. Hopefully this isn’t as difficult to resolve as that little dispute with the Great Intelligence. Good luck.’  
  
The current Doctor nodded at the Second Doctor’s retreating form. ‘Thanks, I think I’ll need it.’ A blow widened the gap in the ceiling. He straightened his cravat as the sky above split open. 

* * *

  
  
‘Marmalade.’ The Doctor said abruptly as he sat up, hitting his head on the glass surrounding him, giving Doctor Starling who was reading patient records the shock of her life. He carefully removed the blood pressure monitor and the IV drip.  
  
‘Help me get out of here, will you?’ He said, voice, slightly muffled, palms on the glass roofing. It didn’t budge.  
  
The startled Starling complied a few seconds before the world exploded.  
  



	13. Running

_In steel packaged death_  
 _Bullets fly spanning the air_  
 _What betrayal bought_  
\-- A Collection of War Haikus  
  
The Sleipnir storages weren’t far but there were approximately ten flights of steel staircases down a narrow and confined area packed with dirt. Normally they’d have taken the elevators but Deucalion’s gravitational system had put them, the rest of the communications grid and the electricity grid out of operation. The wiring was floating several feet above the ground by now and Slaine suspected that only the fear of destroying the Martian ground troops was keeping the Orbital Knight from utilising Deucalion’s full powers.  
  
The only light in the area came from strips of emergency bioluminescent lighting, coating the anti-slip surfaces of the stairs, designed specifically for the catastrophes wrought by Martian Kataphrakts.  
  
‘We’ll take two Sleipnirs and try and get out of here as soon as possible,’ Inaho said as Rayet and Slaine ran ahead. ‘Slaine has never been in a Sleipnir before so he’ll go with me. You go with Asseylum. Have the specs changed in three years?’  
  
Judging by the state of Rayet puffy and red eyes she’d been crying.  
  
‘We’re actually time travellers so apologies if we’re a little lost on the details,’ Slaine admitted as they hit the next level. B4 was painted on the side of the walls in thick black lettering marking the fact that there were six more levels to go. So far, they hadn’t been intercepted by any soldiers but by the sound of the yelling and the sounds of boots on steel above.  
  
By the low soft green-blue lighting Rayet had from what Slaine could see of his face Rayet had turned a little pale. And probably a little green.  
  
‘He’s dead isn’t he?’ Asseylum asked in the most consoling tone she could muster.  
  
Rayet gaped, showing eye whites.  
  
‘There’s no need to deny it,’ She said a little sadly, indicating Rayet’s hands had been hastily washed and some of the blood – presumably Saazbaum’s – hadn’t been removed. A few high velocity splatters had hit the area under her neck.  
  
‘I do what I have to. We’re fighting a war. I do what is right, I kill the enemy. ’ Rayet squared her shoulders a little defensively.  
  
‘But he wasn’t doing anything wrong. We just wanted to go home, is that really so bad?’  
  
‘”Is that really so bad?” Please. You have the decency, Princess, to tell me that after three years of being dead you and Inaho turn up best friends with the warmongering genocidal maniac who killed you and more and expect me to show some calm self-restraint?’ Her voice was a little hysterical. ‘Out there, people are dying and you expect me to give a flying fuck about the person who put them in that situation?’  
  
‘We can discuss this later.’ Inaho said. ‘Our first priority is to get one of those Sleipnirs.’  
  
‘It’s been three years.’ Rayet said looking away, down the endless flights of staircases. ‘This is almost like having you back.’  
  
Wet tears stained her cheeks as they were intercepted by troops, cut off from above. Below them marched troops shuttling Terrans at gun point.  
  



	14. Rescue

_Once, Mars had been as lush as the Earth._ – The Untold Famine  
  
Doctor Starling, known otherwise as Liv Chenka, was currently crawling through the ventilation ducts. It was not an occupation she had chosen but it was vastly preferable to staying on as Grand Administrator of Earth, a cushy desk job she had shortly abandoned by hopping five realities to the right and a few hundred years back using a stolen Time Ring.  
  
Despite Narvin’s grandstanding, the stuffy Time Lord still hadn’t recalled the item and as far as Liv cared he could go screw himself. But still, he’d surprised her by accepting her decision grudgingly. He might have been the epitome of the Time Lord’s ‘watch but don’t touch’ society of ingrate hypocrites but underneath it he cared in his own funny way.  
  
So here she was on a wartorn planet after swearing that she’d never come to another wartorn planet again. Not after Nixyce VII or Ramosa. Perhaps she had a strange affinity towards warzones or perhaps it was more likely that she missed it.  
  
Missed the danger, the thrill of adrenaline. Of trying to avoid getting crushed by opponents like  colossal mecha – the type the locals called Kataphrakts down here, of righting wrongs and standing up for the people. It was one of the things that burden of terminal disease had taken away from her – somehow under the constant threat of an impending force she couldn’t control, she’d become less Liv and a hollow shell wrapped within herself.  
  
Now that those heavy dark clouds had lifted, she was free to make her own decisions.  
  
She grinned now. Wolfishly.  
  
In her hands, the tablet containing Saazbaum’s biodata trace gave off the soft green ripples of a time traveller. He was several metres below her so she pushed aside a heavy metal disc and dropped out of the ceiling.  
  
He didn’t react as she lightly crouched, absorbing the impact in the soles of her feet. This Sazabum was in a bad way, having left an enormous trail of blood in the struggle to crawl down the corridors. He was limned it.  
  
She wasn’t a big fan of the first one but she assumed that the Doctor knew what he was doing. With a practiced hand she applied compression bandages and with the left one dialled the head of Orlane’s security force as she worked, taking care to transmit the correct code.  
  
‘Hello?’ Krachkoff said, clearly confused.  
  
‘This is Doctor Starling.’  
  
‘Ah, Vers’ informant I presume. Please be brief.’  
Busy killing Terrans at the moment, you mean, Liv thought sourly.  
  
‘No, you might want to take a look at this.’ She pointed the screen of the tablet at Saazbaum and heard Krachkoff’s sharp intake of breath and a string of swear words. It wasn’t a favourable arrangement but Orlane’s Landing Castle had better medical facilities and it would take at least a few days to a month for Mars/Earth travel giving Liv a window of opportunity.  
  
‘How did this unescorted liability manage to escape Mars? I thought he had an audience with the emperor.’ Krachkoff roared. From the sound of it, some of the spittle had hit the microphone. ‘I’ll send over a detachment and a medical team sent immediately. Shall I interrupt the emperor?’’  
  
‘No sir, the audience chamber is insulated and furthermore there is forecasted solar interference.’  
  
Krachkoff’s groan sounded from the tablet.  
  


* * *

 

  
‘Call off the attack.’ He said weakly, barely able to form off the words. ‘Withdraw our troops.’  
  
The soldier was shaking his head. ‘Sir, you aren’t thinking clearly. It’s the pain. You explicitly ordered us too…’ Stress. PTSD. Stockholm’s. Alternate self elsewhere. He didn’t need to hear the rest to know.    
  
He could barely muster the force, but he managed to extend his hand, weakly grasping the man’s ankle. The solder was shocked, he could see it in his eyes once his own vision focussed a little. Only a little more. ‘I am your commanding officer... Withdraw now… If we cannot without losing our forces…This is what I want you to do.’  
  
The man leaned in to hear Saazbaum’s words. By now, his voice was so faint it was barely above a whisper, but line by line he recited the Terran names as he had memorised them.    
  
When the medical staff arrived, he barely had the energy left to keep his head above the ground. Surrounded by white, he was born aloft.  
  



	15. Utopia

_Indeed, Mars’ current condition could better be ascribed to poor terraforming. The level of phosphates in the soil, for example, were insufficient. The level of gases in the atmosphere were improper. Worst of all, the atmosphere was too thin to keep in the water._ – The Untold Famine  
  
It’s a long way, to Tipperary…  
  
Calm wasn’t sure why he was humming that song, but it soothed him. It brought back memories of his mother who had always used to sing it.  He’d assumed that it was some old relic that she’d brought with her from Britain when she’d immigrated.  
  
But now, the truth was clear to him. The tune was a war song, the beat centuries old. Earth soldiers marching out to fight other Earth soldiers.  
  
Perhaps nothing had changed. In war, there was always two parties doing the killing.  
  
He reverted his position to sight better, using the pressure of the pads of his fingers to control the scope. Once, he had tired of being a simple mechanic, but now, suspended in the harness, he wasn’t so sure. The war had marched on, even a C- could make the ranks now. The ranks of Earth had been drained to the extent there simply wasn’t anyone else to replace him.    
  
‘It’s a long way, to go.’ He sung softly, as his finger found the trigger. The soldier’s face was targeted in the crosshair.  
  
‘What the-‘ The man barely had time to say anything before his head was cleanly sliced off. What remained of his body jerked back as ribbons of blood expanded outwards from pierced artery in the neck.  
  
But he hadn’t pressed the trigger. Which meant –  
  
‘Yuki?’ There was a second Sleipnir backing him up with fire.    
  
‘Behind you!’ Heavy artillery shells barely missed the Warrant Officer’s machine. She fired back in rounds. Above them, Deucalion hovered menacingly. It was almost as if the gunfire and artillery simply bent around the ship.  
  
‘But why isn’t the Kataphrakt doing anything?’ Calm wondered out loud. His gunfire wasn’t doing anything so he exchanged it for the cannon. He got his answer a few seconds later when Yuki’s Sleipnir was plucked out of thin air.  
  
One minute she was there, and another minute she wasn’t. Calm was looking at nothing more than the imprint that the machine had made on the dirt floor.  
  
Yuki was screaming. ‘Fire a god damned missile at me, fire it. It’s picking off all our Kats one by one. Searching for something, somebody.’  
  
Fear crawled up his spine. ‘But I’ll destroy you!’  
  
Her Sleipnir burst into sheets of flames as the shrapnel floated outwards beneath the watchful eye of the Orbital Knight. For a fleeting instance, Calm saw Yuki’s body floating, free of the restraints as if she was gently drifting amongst the waves.  
  
Then she was gone.  
  
Calm thought he would never stop hearing her thin scream, pitched so high in fear and terror that it ceased to be human.  
  



	16. Radiance

_Many have speculated on the precise cause of the disappearance of the original Martians. In some circles, it is believed that they died of famine, though no bones or remains have ever been recovered. Others believe that they wiped themselves out with their own weapons of war. Perhaps the more likely answer is that they were attacked by a third party, though it is difficult to obtain evidence either to the contrary or in support. In any case, they vanished before the transformation of the biosphere was complete._ – The Untold Famine  
  
Saazbaum woke up to a white room with a steady hum. An IV line and catheter had been inserted into his right hand and he idly raised it: the steady warm feeling of an opioid coursing through his veins. A painkiller induced haze which lasted right up until he moved his torso a little too far to the right, which caused an immediate shooting pain. He took in a sharp breath, which unfortunately only contributed to the pain.   
  
‘How long was I out?’ He rasped.   
  
‘Try not to move, Viceroy. We need those bones to set correctly and those wounds to heal.’ the doctor advised. He’d swung one leg off the bed and was in the process of moving the next one when she walked in front of him.  
  
They’d met before. The Count’s groggy brain tried to connect the words to the dots to the title and began to paint a worrying picture. A Terran base. ‘So you know who I am, Doctor Starling.’  
  
‘Your Artron levels are much higher than human normal. It’s a fair assumption to make that you’ve been travelling through time and space with the Doctor.’  
  
‘Artron…?’ He said, feeling a little more alert.   
  
‘Residual energy. I’m not from Earth. Kaldor, actually. There’s a lot of human colonies around the universe if you know the right place to look.’ She moved aside part of his sheets and sat down, next to him.  ‘The real name is Liv, by the way. You’ve probably got plenty of questions so fire away.’  
  
‘The Doctor, the people I was with?’  
  
‘They escaped.’ A small relief.  
  
‘What happened to the originals, though – Inaho, Asseylum, Slaine?’  
  
‘Dead.’ It had been obvious from Rayet’s reaction but this only reconfirmed his suspicions that other him had been involved. ‘I don’t know the exact details.’ She confirmed.   
  
‘Where is my other self?’  
  
‘On Mars. That’s why it’s important for you to impose a blockade on all communications to delay the time they’ll take to find you here for as long as possible.’  
  
He paused, then narrowed his eyes to slits. ‘And I’d be the only one with that authority, wouldn’t I? They’d find out anyway,’ He corrected himself. ‘No, that’d alert them very quickly to the fact that somebody is using the jamming against them and there is only one person I assume with that kind of authorisation. Me.’  
  
‘You don’t have any alternative. You’ll be exposed no matter what you do. Jamming would simply function as damage control.’  
  
Saazbaum snorted inwardly. ‘It wouldn’t be an issue if I escaped from here before anybody found out.’ He told her, a little arrogantly.  
  
‘That’s not going to be happening. Your presence here when you are supposed to be on Mars is a little something that you’ll be explaining to Krachkoff, anyway.’ Her tone was matter of fact. The smugness dropped out of his eyes. ‘I didn’t have much of a choice. Either I told him or you died.’  
  
‘Who’s Krachkoff?’  
  
‘Countess Orlane’s head of security.’  
  
He actually made a little gasping sound, as his composure crashed to the floor. It was shock, grief and joy written across his face. A part of him rejoiced, the other part of him was resigned. Yet another part of him was jealous of the other him, who’d never had to go through a process of loss and heartbreak. His heart contracted painfully.   
  
‘How is that possible?’ He asked in a bare whisper.   
  
She shrugged. ‘Different realities, different rules.’  
  
‘Good grief.’ He muttered and buried his head in the pillow. ‘I don’t want to face this,’ he said, voice muffled.It would be difficult to fool a person who knew him as well as Orlane and he could only delay the inevitable.   
  
‘Liv’ was still watching him, lips quirked with some amusement. ‘You’d only elect a plenipotentiary which you could trust.’  
  
Thanks for the confidence, he thought. And shuddered.   
  



	17. Disturbance

_As of today, be assured that my niece is no longer lonely. She sits in bed, for hours at a time, talking to my sister gently. Sometimes, she also sings, but she rarely cries. Just last night, I saw her smile again, one shy expression tucked into one secretive corner of her mouth. But Esthere has long since departed this world and she only sees a figment of the imagination. I grieve, knowing that Vers has repaired  the body, but her mind is lost forever._ – Excerpts from the War  
  
To the Viceroy’s utter annoyance, he hadn’t been able to reach Orlane. A technical team had been set up to determine the cause of the jamming was underway, but his retinue hadn’t detected the cause.  
  
Since the Princess had died, nobody other than him had that level of clearance on Earth. Even if the Terrans had invaded the landing castle, they’d be unable to breach the fortifications. Aldnoah read the genetic privilege of the user and only two people could bypass the lock. And both of them – the Emperor, Lemrina and Saazbaum – were on Mars.   
  
‘Well?’ He demanded.  
  
‘No sign of the cause. We haven’t been able to locate the Aldnoah trace. It’s almost like the genetic fingerprint was present at some time but then erased.’ The woman reported back. ‘We think that the solar surge might have damaged the receivers on Earth.’  
  
‘And somehow it managed to wipe out all of them in orbit. Satellites, Landing Castles and all the communicators in the Kataphrakts.’ Saazbaum drawled. ‘The storm ended more than three hours ago, I think you’ll find. A blockade here now is awfully coincidental. Have you checked the logs?’   
  
‘Yes, there’s no sign of interference. It’s as clean as a whistle.’ She frowned. ‘Either the solar storm was at fault. Or-‘  
  
‘Or there is somebody out there with a detailed knowledge of Aldnoah.’ Saazbaum said in a soft voice, dripping with a quiet menace. ‘Bring me a report on all of the Orbital Knights who’ve made their descent and contact the ones who haven’t. I want to know the names of every man, woman and child who could have had their privileges escalated and I will know that the traitor responsible is wiped off the face of the Earth.’ He closed his eyes briefly. 

* * *

  
  
He was sitting up, eyes hooded and fogged slightly with the drowsiness which came from an increased dose of painkillers, but he was very much aware, the next time Orlane returned.   
  
Her eyes softened considerably when she saw him. She had long black hair, exactly as he remembered it, straight as a ruler, ethereal, in the light. Travelling in time, he had seen wonders, but none as miraculous as this, his angel returning from beyond the grave.   
  
‘Orlane?’ He asked in a reverent whisper. ‘I never thought…’  
  
‘Hush.’ She said. ‘I’m here now. That’s all that matters.’ She moved as close to him as they could without touching and those few, long moments were the best he’d ever shared in his entire life. He cherished them as they connected through silence. Fingertip, to fingertip.   
  



	18. Absence

_Some effort was made in telling a long story, for the ones who had passed on. Brave, weak, small or cowardly, we sought to weave their lives into a single interconnected tapestry._ – A Story of Vers  
  
‘He still isn’t answering calls.’ Inaho ran a thumb and index finger over his chin. They were at a naval base, or whatever remained of it, anyway. They’d managed to take a covert exit from the underground Terran base – a disused storage tunnel which had long since caved in. But stored in part of the excavated walls had been equipment and supplies and Sleipnirs.  
  
They had taken two, hoping to facilitate their escape but the mechas had proved to be too unwieldy to manoeuver in such a tight space and had been forced to abandon both once they had been damaged by .2  armour piercing fire. It had been a close call and if Inaho hadn’t located the underground water reservoir and a raft they would have died down there.   
  
‘That’s because he’s dead.’ Rayet said bluntly, for the third time that day. Inaho had his doubts. Doctor Starling had been absent. And was the urgency with which the greater bulk of the reconnaissance troops had pulled back merely luck or a tactic to surround and protect existing fortifications or a person?  
  
They had been lucky, Inaho knew, that Deucalion’s pilot appeared to possess some shred of mortality. The Orbital Knight had not, in fact, ordered troops to pull back and then shredded the base. It was perfectly within the power of the craft and would have been an easy task given the amount of heavy metals inserted into the terrain as the foundation. It was an action which would have effectively destroyed the survivors and left the surrounding area devastated.  
  
A single, easy, victory, rather than a withdrawal which put their own troops at risk.   
  
For Inaho a clearer image was emerging. Vers was no longer relying simply on the brute force of one Kataphrakt and more attention was being paid to the conservation of the infrastructure and resources of captured areas. He’d noticed a second, non-participating Kataphrakt in the distance, hovering with outstretched energy blades, waiting to come to the first pilot’s assistance presumably if the rebels became too much of a problem.   
  
‘Does the time machine really look like a blue police telephone box?’ She asked as if expecting him to pull his leg.   
  
Slaine chuckled softly. ‘The mechanism it uses to blend into the surroundings is apparently broken badly.’  
  
The Doctor looked utterly wounded. ‘I wouldn’t fix the chameleon circuit for the world, you know. That’s my favourite shape.’ He said in a rather plaintive tone.   
  
‘But anyway,’ Slaine was saying, ‘It’s utterly surreal what two weeks of forced coexistence will do to people. Some of the things we saw, though…’  
  
Rayet snorted. ‘Hmph, I think it’s pretty obvious what a person like Saazbaum would do in that sort of situation. It’s why I can never get along with people like him.’  
  
But Slaine was grinning. ‘There was this time when we came across a planet filled with fish, right?’  
  
‘They were really beautiful, hundreds upon thousands of shoals flitting in the sky.’ Asseylum added. ‘Their scales would glisten in the sun. Inaho wasn’t too fond of the planet because the fish kept wanting to nibble at his hair.’  
  
‘The planet was tolerable,’ the boy replied calmly. ‘And unique, too.’ He turned over another page with one forefinger.  
  
‘But anyway, the most interesting incident was when Saazbaum, I mean, ahem Count Saazbaum-’  
  
‘Viceroy.’ Rayet said, voice lower than the Princess would have liked, from where she had her head down. Her arms were crossed, her fingers applying the minimum pressure to her knee caps required to support her small frame.  
  
‘Well he never did get promoted in our time did he? Anyway, two alien piranhas and one Orbital Knight walk into a bar and you’d never guess what ends up happening next…’  
  



	19. Finding

_But the list of the dead was such that the more we tried to include, the more we forgot. Some of those who died were childless and alone. Others had not communicated with their relatives in a great number of years. Each one of these left blanks, the holes in our planet, the holes in our heart._ – A Story of Vers  
  
‘Doctor Troyard, would it not be in the best interests of a man who wishes to be presumed dead to be discrete and frugal in his appearances to others?’ Saazbaum paced up and down the metal walkway in slow measured steps, his chin lifted far up enough to maintain his veneer of aristocracy.   
  
Troyard emitted a small dry chuckle from the bridge. ‘Saazbaum, my old friend, I think you’d be more interested in what I’ve dug up.’ His fingers jumped to zoom in the aerial snapshot in. ‘This image was taken a few hundred kilometres above Earth by a Vers spy satellite installed two years ago with the intent of monitoring the district of the planet originally known as Russia. It was one of the images transmitted before the solar surge.’  
  
White snow and dark patches thickened and grew until it revealed a person lying in the snow. The boy could have been cold, wearing nothing more than a white shirt and jeans.   
  
Saazbaum indicated the screen, offering one forefinger. ‘Is that your son, Slaine Troyard?’  
  
‘Quite. His eye colour and retina scan matches and we can analyse his age from waves projected at his bone structure.’  
  
‘Hmm.’ Saazbaum slid his right thumb underneath his jaw. ‘Well Slaine is most definitely dead. I made sure of it.’  
          
There was a black gleam in Troyard’s eyes.  ‘During the 21st Century before the takeover by Mars, several organisations were dedicated to the analysis of supernatural activities. You’ll notice the blue structure in the background behind Slaine.’  
  
The Viceroy lifted a single thin eyebrow. ‘Police?’ He queried. Most of the words in the frame had been obscured by the branches of a tree.  
  
‘Police Telephone Box. The model is a 1969 British one, to be precise. UNISYC and UNIT were two taskforces dedicated to the hunting and extermination of alien threats from humanity and later the extermination of Martians to safeguard the Earth. Records outline that they were influential enough during the height of the Apollo Moon landing to delay that project by several decades.’  
  
‘Continue.’  
  
‘Both organisations mention a blue telephone box in their encrypted files and communications. I hacked into their database and found records of an alien calling himself the Doctor. Apparently the box is his ship which he can use to travel in space and time.’  
  
‘And you think that this might be behind this jamming?’  
  
‘There are a few further scant notes but they seem to indicate the Doctor was exiled at one point from his planet. From the scant information, his civilisation is our technological superior. He might possess the technology to subvert Aldnoah.’  
  
Or, perhaps his people were the original creators behind Aldnoah, Saazbaum had a few suspicions of his own. He was a paranoid man, but it was paranoia which kept his position as Orbital Knight secure and paranoia that kept the Earth from under his thumb. The Viceroy dealt in probabilities, never certainties. He would rely on people, but would only pay lip service to trust.   
  
It helped to keep a few aces to himself, like the jamming, despite the risk to the outcome of the war. And now, perhaps that lack of trust, would help him eliminate people such as Orlane from the potential pool of suspects.  
  
The Emperor’s transmission was broadcast onto the screen. Saazbaum inclined his head at an angle.  
  
‘My loyal Viceroy, you will be investigating this outage and resuming control of the Earth, of course, in the case that the castles have fallen to insurgents in your absence.’  
  
‘My liege, we are setting course for Earth now. Estimated course, six days.’ Troyard had melted back into the shadows to escape from those pale blue-green eyes.  
  
‘So, a little under a week. Do your duty well, Viceroy.’ Intoned the Emperor wearily.  
  
Saazbaum didn’t look up again until long after he was gone, a slight hint of a smile dancing around his mouth. Once he straightened up, the show of loyalty had evaporated like an easily discarded cloak.  
  
In its place was inflexible focus.    
  
‘Status of the reactors?’ From there, the reports jumped like a series of grasshoppers and the Viceroy left the intricate ritual to the experienced technicians, rather than pretending to issue orders as if he, and not the experts, were in control.   
  



	20. Questioning

_Why, then, do we use the derivative tem ‘Vers’ when ‘Universe’ would have perfectly fitted our needs? The answer, lies in the etymology of the term since its inception_. – The Founding of the Vers Empire  
  
The Viceroy’s last order had been dubious. The first command, an immediate ceasefire was completely out of the question. The second was to capture the Terrans alive and to allow the civilians escape the premise.   
  
The man had almost done a complete U-turn on previous orders and if it hadn’t constituted insubordination and a lack of concern for the man’s health, Krachkoff would have suspected that the man had been replaced by a more sentimental imposter.  
  
What had happened on that base to change his mind so much? Krachkoff had no doubt that the Viceroy had been rendered delusional by the multiple injuries inflicted on his being. Stockholm’s syndrome maybe. Brainwashing was another possibility. But then again, his eyes had been clear and aware. He’d been injured, yes, but he’d been lucid enough to dictate the names of the people to be taken in.   
  
Heavens forbid it, Krachkoff had wanted to ignore the orders. Given out of grief and hysteria, the man was surely going to regret the chance to strengthen his control over the Earth.   
  
But the Countess, his immediate superior, had prohibited it, despite the fact she clearly wanted to level the place out of revenge for her fiance. And so they had painstakingly cherry-picked Sleipnirs and destroyed the rest. The survivors, seeing that the battle was lost had turned tailed and fled.  
  
And they hadn’t pursued them. The whole incident left a sour taste in Krachkoff’s mouth. Their goal had been to root out and destroy the rebels, not to let them regroup and recollect their strength.   
  
Still, they’d suffered few losses on the retreat, a small consolation.  
  



	21. Farewells

_‘Uni’ would imply that the union of thought and action existed amongst the people of Mars, however, since its inception Mars has been a broadly diverse society with astronauts, agriculturalists and scientists drawn from broadly diverse sections of the population from each of the participating member countries. Categorically speaking, Mars was as diverse as one could get in human history in religion and culture._ \-- The Founding of the Vers Empire  
  
The surviving Terrans had been herded into a small complex outside the Landing Castle. Outside, the Martians stood firmly at even intervals around the perimeter guarding all the entrances. They were still and silent, although a security guard was checking the identities of the living, the old fashioned way and with photo identification records. It was presumably because their communications had also failed, despite their best efforts to suppress the truth.  
  
The dead, a pile of corpses, had been collected and spaced out onto the ground. Calm assumed that dental records were being examined. The sight of scientists uniformed in white lab coats and red trimming opening mouths to check teeth and swabbing was a rather morbid affair.   
  
Persistent rumours had been spreading in the miniature prison camp. Stories that a rogue Orbital Knight had jammed Mars’ communications together with the Earth’s were spreading fast together with stories that a ceasefire had been called and ignored. The most bizarre rumours included one which suggested that the Viceroy had actually been inside the Terran base when it attacked and that a number of formerly dead people had been spotted around the base including the tactician Inaho and the Vers Princess.   
  
Calm had been as still as a grave when it had been mentioned to him. There was a general aura of dread lingering around the camp, as family members had tried to pass as other family members as word got around that a quota system had been implemented. Magbaredge, for example, was posing as the now deceased Yuki. It was a paper thin disguise and they all knew that it would be shredded in an instant.   
  
So to pass the time, they made conversation.  
  
‘Do you think they’re just going to shoot us one by one?’ Nina asked a little nervously. One man – more like a boy which they hadn’t recognised – had already been dragged outside into the blizzard and been killed. It had been a slow and merciless process of elimination.   
  
Marito shook his head. ‘They’re looking to maintain a single and smaller group of hostages.’ He scratched his hair. ‘It’s a logical decision. With their resources stretched tight, I can’t imagine them wanting to feed mouths which aren’t important.’  
  
‘It’s horrible.’  
  
‘They’re martians.’ Calm said, staring straight ahead. ‘You can’t expect humanity from those bastards anyway. They were asking for famine when they destroyed the farmlands, anyway. Now crops won’t grow and if they can’t import supplies they’ll starve to death with us.’   
  
Marito nudged Calm consolingly with the toe of one boot. Then he turned to Doctor Yagari, who was looking quite out of place in his clean white and his stethoscope. He was crouched on the roughly hewn bench with the rest of them.   
  
‘My friend, why don’t you just go out there and help the Martians. It might help you live longer after all.’  
  
‘I deal with the living, not the dead.’ The doctor said softly. He put his hands in his pockets. ‘If there are wounded, I’ll tend to them, whichever side they come from. But I won’t help them with the dead.’  
  
‘That’s generous of you.’ Marito nodded. Outside, the winds were still blowing in a steady violent stream. ‘I can’t imagine helping them at all.’  
  
‘I swore an oath. It’s a matter of principles.’ Doctor Yagari said. ‘I’ll do what I can, even if I hate my enemies.’  
  
‘First, do no harm.’ Darzana surprised them by saying. ‘It’s the Hippocrates Oath, isn’t it?’  
  
The doctor nodded. ‘I swore by it, although it seems like an entire lifetime ago.’  
  
‘I thought so. My father used to be a surgeon. But then, he came across a patient that he wasn’t able to save.’ Darzana looked out, eyes faraway. ‘It was an amputee. The man had lost a leg in Heaven’s Fall, crushed by a Kataphrakt and my father did the best he could for him. At first, it appeared as if he was going to make it and he’d been given a full round of antibiotics. But then, inexplicably, he’d died. Despite their best precautions, the man survived the trauma of the operation and lived through the war but fell to an enemy that he couldn’t see, let alone fight.’  
  
She fell silent.    
  
It was Nina who spoke up. ‘So, what happened to your father?’  
  
‘What use was a surgeon who couldn’t save lives? That’s what he said to me, all those years ago.’ Darzana’s voice was bitter. ‘He gave up on the profession that he loved and eventually took to drinking. When that became too much, he ended his life.’ She cursed. ‘He was a fool. A stupid and sentimental fool, who couldn’t see past his own failure.’  
  
But still there were the glimmer of tears in her eyes which quickly disappeared after two strokes made in quick succession by one sleeve.  
  
A soldier was rapidly approaching them.  
  
‘Well,’ she said with a barely audible tone of low humour. ‘This is your commanding officer signing off. One final time.’  
  



	22. Opposition

_It would be remiss to assert that we did not attempt to embrace unity of aim, culture and heart. The caste and uniform system certainly ensured that although we did not all look or feel the same or have the same experiences, our loyalties, theoretically, all lead to the Emperor._ \-- The Founding of the Vers Empire  
  
‘We can’t keep all the Terrans,’ Schnei – the head of Resources - was saying with an infuriating calmness, ‘Because we can’t feed them all.’  
  
Saazbaum wasn’t well enough to stand and he was relying on the fact that most people wouldn’t notice the fact that he was swaying slightly. But he stood anyway because he was prideful and secondly because in his personal experience standing tended to yield positive results when instructing subordinates. Standing was significantly made him more intimidating, then, say, lying down whilst connected to an IV drip barely able to move let alone speak, which was what Orlane had wanted him to do.  
  
He hadn’t listened, so woe and betide him when she found out.  
  
He was helped by the fact that he was drugged with a dose of morphine so strong that Liv had warned that he was in danger of getting addicted to the drug and he felt a deep warmness radiating from his head to his fingertips. He recalled the indignation of the woman who cared more about his wellbeing then was strictly necessary for a Vers-Earth double agent. Or a triple agent, for that matter, since apparently she was working with the Doctor’s own people to keep an eye on him.  
  
‘They could be fed with supplies lifted from the UE HQ.’ Saazbaum said with a thin lipped smile which might have been slightly pained. He was betting on the fact that he’d landed his Dioscuria on it in this timeline. ‘I’m sure that they have enough resources to supply the Earth for a few years yet.’  
  
‘As you might remember sir we ransacked the base and they were alternately destroyed and exhausted. And we can’t request supplies until the communications networks are fixed.’  
  
The Count gritted his teeth. Vers, or well, himself, really was a swarm of locusts. Of course, it was a strategy that he would employ himself. If the supplies hadn’t been destroyed, the enemy would have been able to entrench itself. In such a strategically important and well weaponised region, it could have been the difference between winning and losing the war.  
  
‘And we can’t release our prisoners.’ He stated plainly.  
  
‘We can’t let enemy troops go, because they’ll return and kill us. And in any case, they will die slowly and painfully in blizzard. You have the choice between letting them starve to death or killing them humanely.’  
  
‘That barely resembles a choice. You present to me an alternative both resulting in deaths and I find each equally repugnant.’  
  
‘Precisely, Viceroy. Which is why I have given the soldiers to humanely kill any prisoner who is posing as the people you ordered to be captured alive. It will reduce the numbers of prisoners to a manageable quantity. Because of time restraints earlier, especially surrounding your wellbeing, we weren’t properly able to verify the individuals during the skirmish at the military base earlier.’  
  
Saazbaum noticed that she used the term ‘skirmish’ and not ‘unprovoked attack of refugees.’ Because in spite of all his experiences with Rayet in the underground base, the Terrans living there had undoubtedly been trying to scrape out a living. Families lived there. Waging a war which they were losing was as far from their priorities as humanly possible. But he couldn’t afford to expose himself as the cuckoo in the nest.  
  
‘I don’t seem to recall ordering the massacre of unarmed prisoners of war.’ He informed her sarcastically, but his voice was as cold as the blizzard outside. ‘Stop this operation immediately.’ He clenched his jaw, despite the pain it caused him.  
  
Schnei obviously intended to console him. ‘Their identification has been triple checked against a UE photo identification record provided by an insider. These were people who we’d have killed on the field, anyway. You aren’t killing anybody, Viceroy, you are saving the lives of people who will be valuable political prisoners living in relative comfort, why can’t you see that?’  
  
He was so angry that he could barely string together a coherent sentence through the fogginess in his head. ‘Cancel the operation then get out of my sight.’ He spat. ‘You are dismissed, effective immediately.’  
  
He didn’t even wait for her reaction and strode outside.  
  



	23. Prognosis

  
_It was only once Earth rejected our call for negotiations and for supplies that we realised what a foolhardy ambition unity was. In the depths of starvation, our people were more than willing to steal from one another. Feuds rose daily. Blood was publically shed on the streets. In the depths of our naiveté we never would have thought that we would have born witness to one of the bloodiest massacres in history._ – The Martian Revolution  
  
‘Sir, I think you should go inside. Your health-’  
  
Krachkoff had no doubt let Schnei’s decisions slide. His eyes were so heavy lidded that they felt like two immovable bricks, but he felt that it was immoral to allow the bloodshed to continue any further.   
  
‘And I should just ignore this, correct?’ The Count swept one impassive arm over the heap of bodies on the snow and the red seeping into the white, leaving bloody discs and trails, ignoring the pain of the fracture the gesture still ignited.    
  
Orlane had helped him shunt the sad remaining number of prisoners into his Landing Castle, a small kindness from the woman he loved above all else.  
  
They’d probably have ended up freezing to death outside, no matter what Schnei said. In any case, that person had now been relieved of the position and her eyes had taken on a cold zone of dissatisfaction but her mouth had worn a small pleased smile. As if his reaction was the one she’d anticipated. He’d suspected then that she knew the truth about him. It was only a matter of time before she ended up moving against him, rankless or not, but it was her word against the most powerful man on the planet.  
  
Or he would be, because he also had plans to deal with his other self in the event that they weren’t able to reach the TARDIS or became stranded here permanently. His narrowed eyes relaxed into thought. He could do that, couldn’t he? Become his own imposter and nobody would know any differently.  
  
Except Orlane. He dreaded the thought of hurting her, not after everything he’d been through, after all the wrongs he had committed in her name. For her, he would forestall anything, even murder with his own body if he had to.    
  
And yet, these weren’t his people. And this wasn’t his planet, although it was deceptively easy to believe that it was, with the number of familiar faces. The longer he stayed here, the faster he would fall back into the familiar territory of waging the war he had started.  
  
‘The bodies will be removed and cremated.’ Krachkoff was saying, but Saazbaum’s mind was on the unseeing happiness of the people sandwiched into Inaho’s album. In the photographs they were still suspended in time, unaware that that the smiles of the people who they had represented had long been blown away by the tides of war.  
  
‘Let’s go inside.’ He said to the man, leaving a swirling funnel of snow in his wake. He held the elevator open for Krachkoff with one hand. It was a show of strength only as the pain it caused him was debilitating, but it would be no more painful than the leaden weight on his soul.  
  
The trip into the upper levels of the landing castle was a silent one.  
  



	24. Followers

_You were my childhood hero._ – Marnal’s Error  
  
The Doctor was making a fusion generator because all the power supplies for the naval base had been destroyed. It had just been the five of them at first – Asseylum, Slaine, Inaho, the Doctor and Rayet shivering in the cold, eventually a few more despondent refugees had lingered like a few lost birds.  
  
He’d collected materials including a huge number of large glass bottles and thick piping to act as a makeshift beaker. He’d even borrowed coins, some had been pressed into his palm from an old woman who had lived through the ages when they’d been used to purchase good rather than melted down into a sludge for Sleipnir materials. The bottles had been filled with snow from outside and connected to the makeshift batteries built from the coins and car batteries. Scrap metal had been crafted into an intricate series of gleaming circuits hammered into a metal tray.   
  
The Doctor adjusted a few makeshift switches, moved it closer to the main switch board, causing a few sparks to appear around the exposed ends of the wire causing the people around him to jump.  
  
‘Ehh,’ The Time Lord said and went to consult a few scribbled notes done in a ballpoint in some kind of circular script, added a few more notes with a flourish then clicked the pen, causing the tip to jump back in. Then he laid the pen to rest. ‘I think I’ll just change these wires, here and here,’ he said, then plugged it into the main switch board.  
  
This time there was no bang but as they watched the light in the damaged base began to glow from the strips set into the walls and the ceiling and heat to begin to emanate from the air vents. It was a little stuffy and hot so the Doctor turned the temperature controls back down to a more comfortable level.   
  
‘And we’re back online!’ He said excitedly, causing his hair to bounce a little in his excessive movement. A little of his vitality must have rubbed off on the refugees because a few were sounding a little more animated: conversation sprouting.   
  
Rayet said, ‘Is this safe?’   
  
‘Yeah,’ The Doctor scratched his head. ‘You just rub the nuclei of two atoms together and it produces an enormous amount of energy. Slaine?’  
  
The boy’s head jerked up like a puppet string. ‘Can you make sure that there’s always enough snow in these bottles? The consumption isn’t very high but we might run out tomorrow or in a couple of hours.’  
  
‘Sure.’ Slaine stooped to grab an empty bottle and went outside to refill it.   
  
‘Inaho?’   
  
‘Lieutenant Summats is training me in managing the tactical chain of command so I’ll be unavailable the rest of the week. I might have the weekends off, though, if any of the time spent in a war can be counted as time ‘off’.’ Inaho said, in the progress of strapping a utility belt and adjusting his headpiece.   
  
‘Rayet?’  
  
‘Cleaning duty calls.’ She scrunched her face up a bit. ‘Still, I might be able to fire a few weapons and fit in some target practice.’ She made the business of war sound so casual that the Doctor winced a bit at the comment, amusing her.   
  
It was becoming harder and harder to believe that the Viceroy in any universe would be able to settle down quietly sharing a roof with three pacifists, let alone one that claimed to be a several hundred year old alien.  
  
He turned to Asseylum who had her hands folded up neatly. ‘Princess, would you like to join me in a little experiment? Let’s build an echo chamber, since there’s a few people I’d like to talk to but communications are down…’  
  
‘Doctor, knowing that this isn’t something I’ve ever done before… Where do we start?’  
  
The Doctor grinned, his mood and hair perking up instantly when he bobbed up and down.


	25. Trust

_He remembered catching a wounded bird in his hands, feeling the soft down of the feathers. He’d kept it in a lined wooden box, with an open lid. His father taught him how to feed the birds, with hard boiled eggs and mealworm._ – Excerpts from the War   
  
Orlane wasn’t as upset as he anticipated, when she returned from the scouting trip. True her face was as deadly as rising thunder about his trip outside midwinter, but she still listened to what he had to say after she gave him the tongue lashing.   
  
‘You aren’t allowed to take one more step outside this ward without my or the doctor’s express authority.’ She said curtly.   
  
He closed his eyes then rested his head back. ‘A reasonable decision.’ He agreed. He chafed, but now that Inaho’s friends were no longer in any immediate danger, he could rest a little easier and bide his time. A trip with Liv had ensured that the communications blockade wasn’t going to be dropped any time soon, either, ensuring him a small amount of privacy between now and when his other self was going to arrive, allowing him room to manoeuver before the inevitable fallout.   
  
For now, simply being near her pacified him and even watching her from afar consoled his soul. It was so much more than what he had before.  He reopened his eyes, when a finger traced his hands, so lightly that I didn’t cause him any pain.   
  
‘Frostbite. You’ll need gloves too.’  
  
‘You’re concerned.’  
  
She flushed a little, obvious on a face as pale as hers. Warm. Alive. He shut his mouth before the drugs could make him blurt out something he would later regret. ‘Pragmatism. I can’t let you go about dying on me. Don’t go about confounding the two.’  
  
When he knew that he had reigned in sufficient emotional control, he spoke a half truth. ‘I know that you are worried about the food shortage too. Allow me to propose a solution: recover the blue police telephone box in this vicinity. I suspect that it contains sufficient supplies, stored via alien technology perhaps.’  
  
‘You must be joking.’ But he had already closed his eyes. She inched a little closer, observing him, but he really did appear to be asleep. Gently, she reached over and pulled the loose sheets up, tucking him in with a methodical, loving care.   
  
He could have just talked to her and she could have passed the message onto the castle staff, but as always he was so prideful. It therefore became necessary to prevent him through pre-emptive action.   
  
But still, a blue box. Where had that come from? She wondered, then grimaced, pushing aside a few stray strands of his hair to prevent them from falling in his eyes.   
  



	26. Echo

_Non Euclidean geometry represented a paradigm shift, as in Kantian philosophy, when some aspects of knowledge are neither deduced nor observed through the senses. It was postulated by Foreman that within a single dimension infinite dimensions could be represented, thus leading to the memetic concept of the ‘Universe within a bottle’ – a creation that could encompass all known special dimensions simultaneously._   – ‘Geometry’  
  
Asseylum had collected the requested materials to the wooden table which Summats had brought for them. The area around the Doctor was quickly being converted into an open scientific laboratory. Books, mostly military manuals had been stacked around the table legs, some cardboard had been slotted in underneath the legs to prevent it from wobbling and more curious people had been trickling in throughout the day to see the Doctor work.  
  
Apparently the Lieutenant had finally been convinced that the Doctor was good at dabbling with electricity and not simply a lunatic with a penchant for making things explode, although a large number of things had gone up with a bang and loudly in the past few hours. Some soot had begun to dust the Doctor’s clothing, hair and hands.   
  
‘I was a scientific advisor at UNIT for years, Lieutenant. My range of specialisations include physics, biology, chemistry, quantum mechanics and magic.’ the Doctor had said and winked. Summats had clearly assumed that the last statement had a lighthearted comment. The Doctor had then assured Asseylum in a conspiratorial tone that the last statement truthful since any sufficiently advanced technology was  indistinguishable from magic and that in some universes shaped like pink donuts Aldnoah would have also constituted magic.   
  
But then again, to Summats this air-headed grinning fool had restored power to the building in a way that nobody on Earth could possibly conceive. So he let the matter slide and brought the Doctor all the specialised equipment he had requested.   
  
By now, the Doctor had collected a larger bottle and plugged into his newest contraption. Asseylum leaned over the table.  
  
‘Ready?’ At his nod, she plugged the contraption in. This time, pinpricks of light lit the bottle from within, trickling into miniature universes, stars and galaxies.   
  
‘Temporal monitoring chamber,’ The Doctor said, a flush touching his pale face slightly. He dusted off his hands as he leaned to adjust the responses by adjusting the cannibalised controls adapted from a remote controlled toy aeroplane set. He flicked one button with a thumb and the bottle responded by leaping in, an ungainly lurch but smoother and more fluidly as the motion progressed.  
  
‘That’s amazing. All those stars from Alpha Centauri?’  
  
‘Yup,’ The Doctor nodded. He slowed the zoom to an idle pan and touched a bright cluster cluster. ‘The Sirius Constellation, home to the colonised planets Androzani Major and Minor. They used to mine Spectrox here, the refined version could double a human’s lifespan.’   
  
‘Really? You must have a really good memory. To me, all the stars look the same.’ She asked, intrigued.   
  
‘Almost died there. Well, I’ve almost died in a lot of places so Androzani isn’t that important in retrospect.’   
  
The bottle was large enough that people standing behind the Doctor could look in. A few seemed to think it was a party trick.   
  
‘So, are you a Martian?’ A guy with a neckbeard and a jumper was saying. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but you don’t seem to around these parts.’  
  
‘Ah, well I’m just an observer. I go here and there, dropping by every now and again, but never on Sundays.’ He shuddered. ‘Sundays are boring.’ That wasn’t the most accurate descriptor, Asseylum was thinking. He tended to drop on planets at accident and making his own important points in history. She laughed a little.    
  
He moved the controls again. ‘Mutter’s Spiral. That’s what my people call the Milky Way, you know. We’re getting closer to home.’ Past Pluto the non-planet they flew, through the gaseous planets of Neptune and Uranus. They skated through Jupiter and moons at dizzying speeds then dipped an orbited Mars. ‘Want to check on how the Emperor is doing?’ The Doctor asked, sticking the tip of his tongue out in concentration.   
  
Rayet had taken a seat and was looking curiously at the bottle too.   
  
‘Maybe after we’ve talked to whoever you wanted to talk to.’   
  
The Doctor nodded, then led the controls through a gentle dance, one swift orbit around the earth and then plunged into the upper atmosphere, then the lower atmosphere. Out ahead, the enormous devastation of the cities spread, diseased smoke drifted from the roofs of burnt buildings. They flew low in a birds eye view, then in the blink they were above a Landing Castle, piercing directly through the two glowing green concentric rings surrounding the neck and then in another split second they had dived into the castle, almost faster than the human mind could process.  
  
‘Must have jammed the controls,’ The Doctor said frowning, and reached out to pluck out and extend the antennae from the controls. But just as he was about to make a few retouches, the screen resolved.  
  
It was a fairly white room, or unless Asseylum’s eyes were failing, it was simply a blank white.   
  
The Doctor banged the controls on the table loud enough for a few people’s heads who weren’t watching to turn in his direction. ‘Ah, well. Could I get some of you kind folks to leave for a bit? I need a little bit of quiet to concentrate. You’re more than welcome to come back later if the opportunity presents itself.’ There were a few grumblings but the Terran refugees were by the large co-operative.  
  
‘Thanks for the power, mister!’ One young girl said and waved. The Doctor flashed her a smile. ‘Don’t let Spot near the toaster again.’ He raised two fingers in a mock salute which he touched to his lips and she responded back happily as she walked out the door.  
  
Slaine and Inaho were hanging around the doorway as the last visitors trickled out.   
  
‘Come on in and close the door behind you. I think we’ve got some business to discuss.’ They took seats opposite Rayet and Asseylum and Inaho removed his headgear. The Doctor hit the controller again and this time the white took on a warmer hue. The room was empty but full of a few books. ‘Since the largest energy signature in this vicinity is the Landing castle, that’s what the monitoring device found.’ They swum through the Castle at a pace slightly faster than a walk and took a look around.  
  
‘This gadget of yours must make an ideal spying device,’ Rayet said at last.  
  
‘It’s a little ahead of your time, I’m afraid. Oh. Hello.’ They’d latched onto one particular servant who’d been progressing down the hallway. Where the Martian stopped because the door was locked, the Doctor wiggled the control, causing the view on the  bottle to simply slide through the door as if it didn’t exist.  
  
It took a few good seconds for Rayet to mentally process who the person wearing the red uniform was. ‘That bastard, so he actually did manage to survive.’   
  
‘Well he does look pretty beaten up, which was probably why he wasn’t answering.’ Inaho said. ‘I’d say you did a pretty good number on him, Rayet.’  
  
Asseylum blushed furiously. ‘Don’t encourage violent behaviour, Inaho.’  
  
‘Is that going to be before or after you make me your knight, Princess?’ Inaho took Asseylum’s hand and before she could protest, kissed it.   
  
The blush went approximately a few shades pinker.  ‘Don’t worry about Inaho, Slaine, I’m going to make you my knight first.’ She patted Slaine’s head and he actually managed to sink a few inches bonelessly in his chair.   
  
‘That, that sounds wonderful.’ Slaine blurted out loud before realising a few minutes too late that the Doctor had finally stopped moving the image on the bottle.   
  
And Saazbaum and Calm were somehow looking straight at them when the Princess covered his mouth with a kiss, the hot chocolate in the Viceroy’s hand immediately forgotten.  
  



	27. Averted

_Red Monday, it was called, because only Phobos, the God of Horror rose that day in the West. The red of our flag is the colour of our shame. It was ultimately for that reason and not the loss of resources for our 340,000 people that the Emperor finally fell into despair_. – The Martian Revolution  
  
The sight of the Viceroy serenely sitting and drinking hot chocolate from a mug, was such a huge dissonance from the massacre that had occurred in the prisoner camps that it inspired feelings of betrayal, anger and utter revulsion in Calm. It was a contradiction of his nature and of his name but in those few moments, he was utterly lost to his rage.  
  
‘So you weren’t the Viceroy, right? That was your story. You absolute bloody liar.’ It took everything that Calm had not to attack the man. Only the thought of Yuki, Nina and the others whose fate likely depended on his composure kept him in check. He was surrounded by an entire castle of hostile Martians, but snapping the smiling man’s neck was an extremely tempting prospect.    
  
Because the person in front of him, was without a doubt the same person hiding in the tunnels, now that he was uniformed. Who Calm had captured and subsequently released.   
  
‘That was Inaho’s idea, not mine.’  
  
‘I find it extremely unlikely that Inaho decided to cover for you or that Inaho decided to begin a Terran genocide. There are limits to my level of disbelief and you are hitting them.’ He viciously stabbed his finger in the air. ‘Inaho hates martians just as much as the next person.’  
  
The Viceroy didn’t even flinch. ‘I called for a ceasefire, however the command was ignored. Taking hostages was the best option given the circumstances. Perhaps my subordinates would be more likely to obey me and less likely to attempt to exact revenge if your friend Rayet exercised some restraint when trying to kill me.’  
  
Calm took three huge steps and slammed both hands down on Saazbaum’s table so hard it hurt. ‘My friend, would not willingly join you. My friend would not disappear for three years. Just admit it. You coerced him, didn’t you?’  
  
‘Hardly. And when a person travels in time and space, the amount of time that you experienced was only a few weeks for us.’  
  
My god, Calm thought to himself, dumbfounded. Not only is this guy a sociopathic murderer, but he is actually insane.   
  
But he didn’t just stop there. No. For some reason which was probably unexplainable to mere mortals, the Martian was looking at a blue police telephone box which had, for some bizarre reason, been positioned in one corner of the room. And Calm hadn’t even noticed it until he’d followed the man’s line of sight, like a particularly bad joke in a dream.  
  
‘Although I’m afraid to say that the original Inaho and Asseylum you actually knew is dead, likely at the hands of the Viceroy Saazbaum you actually know in this timeline.’  
  
All the hairs on Calm’s neck chose at that moment to stand up, which was the only warning he got when every reflection in the room suddenly shifted into stars and constellations like a disorientating life sized Martian screensaver. It finally streamed into a single image, turning the entire mirrored wall behind the Viceroy into a single shimmering reflection which refracted into a view of five blurry people.   
  
‘Doctor, is the bottle working properly?’ Prompted a slightly distorted voice. One hand shifted to block the image and then was withdrawn once the view jumped into focus like the closing of a camera shutter to reveal a prominent Slaine Troyard being kissed by Princess Asselyum.  
  
The abrupt sound of crockery smashing on the floor turned Calm’s head as fast as any bullet.   
  
‘Here, let me help,’ he said, instinctively reaching out with one hand towards one of the larger pieces to help clean up the mess. Distracted, he’d assumed that it was another one of Inaho’s accidents and was mentally thinking up a reprimand when his hand instead accidentally brushed his mortal enemy’s wrist on the way to the same broken mug, causing Saazbaum to yelp in pain and withdraw his arm in a rare moment of lost composure.  
  
‘I can do it myself,’ The Viceroy stated, simmering in his drinking chocolate stained pants. Observing the lost mug and drink, he looked more like a wounded animal who had just lost his best friend to the floor than the most formidable enemy of Earth.    
  
‘I didn’t intend to help you anyway. Not after all the suffering you’ve caused.’ retorted Calm doing his best to ignore Inaho who was observing the exchange with an avid interest. The others weren’t much better following their movements around with their eyes, but they remained silent. ‘Anyway, what’s wrong with your arm?’  
  
He’d briefly caught a glimpse of what looked like painful blotchy bruises running all the way down Saazbaum’s wrist.    
  
‘There is nothing wrong with my arm other than what Rayet inflicted.’ He said through gritted teeth. ‘I’d appreciate it if you kept your trite concerns to yourself.’ His painkillers were wearing off and he didn’t have the time or patients to deal with impudent Terrans. He kneeled over – causing another wave of pain from his lower back and legs which had suffered the most– and, keeping the pain off his face as much as possible, swept the chocolate streaked mess over to the side of the room.  
  
‘Viceroy, excuse me but, is anything the matter?’ A concerned voice, no doubt in charcoal grey uniform said from behind the door. ‘Is the prisoner giving you trouble? We heard noises.’  
  
Saazbaum cursed silently and then raised his voice slightly. ‘Thank you for your concern. I’ll make a recommendation to the Emperor that we conduct our interrogations in complete silence. We can communicate through astral projection instead of using our voices.’ He drawled, ignoring a few poorly hushed snorts and whispered comments from his audience currently residing in the mirror.    
  
‘I see.’ The voice paused. ‘Might I ask if you want assistance in cleaning up the mess?’ The Martian was clearly aware that the mess did not refer to blood or entrails of any kind.   
  
‘No thank you. And please don’t attempt to eavesdrop again or I may have to have a word to Krachkoff.’  
  
‘Understood, sir. Call if you want assistance.’ The voice finally left.   
  
Saazbaum’s expression immediately made the rapid retreat into disinterest. Slaine and Asseylum were still blushing a little but their other two young compatriots could have resembled a brick wall from their level of emotional expression.  
  
‘Well maybe I might believe you about the time travel story. If there is, in fact, another you.’ Calm told him.   
  
‘Oh?’ The tone was carefully neutral.   
  
‘Because the Viceroy I know would never be so undignified over one spilled cup of hot chocolate.’   
  
He knew that it might have been dangerous, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. All the stress of the Martian invasion and the entirely absurd statements that Saazbaum was making, combined with the stupid blue box which was still inexplicably sitting innocuously in the otherwise normal room caused a little snort. Which became a giggle when he saw the man’s mortified and indignant expression and the giggle developed into fullblown laughter.   
  
And after a little while, Saazbaum’s quiet laughter could also be heard, although he had precious little to laugh about.  
  



	28. Prisoners

_It was the transformation from tabloid to movie which was most surprising. The perverse psychological torture that the Martians inflicted upon us… One could hardly wonder if Johan’s retelling was truly unbiased, though the cinematography was stunning and the film broke box office records.  (Full Review Pending…)_  
  
When Darzana was led into Saazbaum’s office at gunpoint and her manacles removed, she’d resigned herself to never seeing Calm or Inaho’s friends again. It was the duty of the leader to take on the burden of those underneath her command, to defend them, to cherish them and to lead them.  
  
She’d planned her outrage, the threats, the riposte and the manoeuvers knowing that her enemy was without a shred of morality and had instigated a war against all human decency. Knowing that as a prisoner of war and as a leader she was bound to be executed anyway on some trumped up charges.  
  
Which was why it was such a surprise when she walked – no, was shoved into Saazbaum’s office and was suddenly the centre of several pairs of eyes whose owners were all drinking hot chocolate.  
  
One small blond haired streak barrelled into her chest, arms around her body. ‘Colonel Magbaredge, I thought I’d never see you again.’ the girl sobbed.  
  
‘Nina, it’s ok. I’m here now.’ She gently scratched the top of the girl’s head causing Nina to bury her head in the crook of an elbow. Her voice hardened. ‘I assume you’re enjoying this, Viceroy. Giving your prisoners a tiny bit of hope and then crushing it.’   
  
‘You are only prisoners in the official sense. Apologies for the welcome, certain facts need to be withheld from my, or rather, Countess Orlane’s staff for the time being.’ he said drily. He extended one hand. ‘You are more than welcome to leave at any time although you might have some difficulty convincing my staff of my intentions. My most reliable Doctor Starling assures me that I publically condemned you to death a few days ago, although I have no recollection of the event.’      
  
‘Ah, so we are only prisoners in the unofficial capacity. That’s always consoling.’ She retorted, eying Saazbaum’s office which had begun to resemble the site of a sleepover with the number of colourful bean bags and pillows laid on the white surface of the ground, bordered into rectangles. There was also what appeared to be a blue shed lodged in the corner. She wondered where he’d got it from. ‘And what do you have to say about this situation, Inaho? I’m assuming that by the fact you’re communicating despite the EM jamming that the two of you are complicit?’  
  
‘He’s working with me. For now.’ Inaho said from behind them on the mirrored wall, with a touch of impatience on his normally expressionless face. ‘The Saazbaum you knew was a different one. That’s why we need to resolve this little dilemma as quickly as possible.’  
  
‘Ending the war in a few days is hardly going to be possible.’ Darzana said, frowning. ‘And I’m assuming that your and Princess Asseylum’s trip back from the dead can be explained by the same incident.’  
  
‘We were stranded here when our means of time transportation broke down.’ Inaho tilted his head a fraction to the left.  ‘Since Saazbaum recovered the Doctor’s TARDIS, we may be able to leave.’ She assumed he meant the curly haired man who was waving rather emphatically. They hadn’t met before, but the man had curious blue grey eyes. He looked human, but the man had a touch of strangeness about him, like an outline which wasn’t quite right.   
  
‘Or you could stay just stay, Nao. Since your death, it simply hasn’t been the same. No matter where you’ve come from, there will always be a place for you in our hearts.’ His sister uttered firmly, and patted the seat next to her.    
  
‘Yuki, no matter how welcome you make us feel, we can never truly belong. And if the original Saazbaum comes back, we’ll be sitting ducks here.’ Inaho explained patiently. ‘We can’t let time technology fall into Vers’ hands, even if it is damaged.’  
  
‘Unless I become a permanent replacement.’ The Count said. A heavy silence fell. Marito moved the handle of his mug a few degrees to the right and Doctor Yagari touched his elbow.  
      
‘Then what are you going to do with the original?’ The Doctor asked serenely. ‘Can you reason with him?’  
  
Saazbaum shook his head, playing listlessly with his cup. ‘Knowing myself,’ he said with the barest hint of a smile, ‘a second me would be perceived as a useful ally. However,’ he added, ‘the sword is double edged. If the second me, who possesses the same level of intellect and Aldnoah rights proves to turn out to be an enemy.’  
  
‘So you’d kill him.’  
  
‘I could not allow a constant threat to stay.’  
  
‘Count Saazbaum, maybe if I had a talk to your other self, we could have things sorted out. Maybe I could talk to this universe’s version of my grandfather.’ Princess Asseylum was saying.    
  
But he was already shaking his head. ‘You’re supposed to be missing.’   
  
‘And you’re actually dead.’ Darzana looked weary. ‘I won’t deny the fact that if the five of you were to join our cause it would be useful to have three Aldnoah users. We’ve got a few ships that we’ve captured but can’t actually use.’  
  
‘And a Time Machine,’ Calm said hopefully. ‘Couldn’t you use that to prevent this entire war happening in the first place?’  
  
‘No.’ The Doctor thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘Time is delicate. Changing one strand here in such an important place could result in things like you never being born. And if I stop the Martian and Earth War from happening, a conflict on such a large scale, the extent of such interference would be immense. And what would stop me from averting every other war? In the universe? When does the interference end?’   
  



	29. Meaning

_All the books had different covers, and every cover had different fonts. Some books were the size of letterheads whilst others were in the form of colourful smoke which hung in different scents. Others were blocks of data waiting to be transferred, to the alcoves lining the walls. Somehow, despite all the cataloguing, it still managed to be disorganised. –_ The Largest Library in the Universe   
  
He wasn’t in the landing castle as she’d checked most of his most frequent haunts from the Library which was partitioned into digital and physical sections to the various blocks. In fact, most of the Landing Castle staff hadn’t seen head nor tail of Saazbaum since the security meeting later the night before.  
  
Not to put too fine a point on it, Saazbaum’s behaviour was deeply troubling Orlane. He’d always respected Terrans, hadn’t seen their race as lesser beings but people to learn from, yet he’d never shied away from eliminating them swiftly and brutally whenever they opposed him. Sometimes, his pragmatism had been slightly disturbing, but still it was justified as part of the war effort. There was no other choice than to eliminate Earth and take the planet for Vers.   
  
It was as if part of that motivation and that almost inhuman obsession in conquest had died away. She was sure that the ordeal he’d experienced in the Terran base had affected him, even if he didn’t discuss it openly.  Yet, if he had been mistreated by the Terrans, then why was he treating them with so much leniency?   
  
Especially Magbaredge. She’d been a thorn in his side for as long as Orlane had recall. He’d conducted numerous offensives especially in the Pacific Gulf and over Tokyo where Trilliam had been killed and all had been thwarted by the rebel leader. He’d often talked about the achievements of the Terran respectfully but she’d always been the thorn in his side to be admired, then crushed and executed. Schnei might have been unnecessarily cruel, but in the scheme of things her actions would have made no difference on the overall course of the war.   
  
So, there had to be more than he was letting on. He’d chosen to have the prisoners brought into his rooms rather than the specialised interrogation cells containing torture equipment from what she could discern. He’d also tried to keep the interactions a secret by employing a rotational set of staff, each drawn from a different hour shifts so that they never communicated with each other and from a different landing castle to minimise the contact between the soldiers and the prisoners. However a few pertinent questions aimed at their direction had indicated a suicidal lack of restraints and the fact that he’d dismissed the guards almost immediately. His prisoners were probably still housed in his quarters as the guards hadn’t seen them since, although servants had brought in meals.  
  
There were other subtler behavioural quirks as well. She sometimes caught him looking at her in unguarded moments as if he wanted to say something but actively sought to keep her at arm’s length. The Saazbaum of the old wouldn’t hesitate to enquire or to make conversation but since he’d come back from the base he’d seemed a shade more vulnerable, younger almost. He’d used avoidance tactics that he hadn’t used since they were children, when he’d accidentally torn a page in a book that he’d borrowed from her and couldn’t summon up the courage to return it. To apologise and to acknowledge his mistakes.    
  
It was a mystery upon a mystery. Like the widespread communications jamming with Vers she’d found shortly after Saazbaum had returned. At first she’d assumed that it was to do with the solar flare because there was no trace of Aldnoah usage to deliberately enhance the EM waves to block Martian as well as Earth signals but a closer inspection of the camera data revealed a partially erased entry showing that the Viceroy had entered, but never left the room.  
  
And yet, if he had been a plant this Saazbaum had a flawless activation factor which he’d proved by dimming his drives at Krachkoff’s behest. His appearance and voice also matched perfectly down to the intonation, the vocal patterns and DNA. He knew all the details prior to and up to Tanegashima. But past that point was where it became a little hazy. He seemed to know cursory details of the past few years as if he’d read his own biography but his knowledge was patchy in certain places. It was perhaps the result of some amnesia and she could have blamed the trauma but still there was something subtly off about him.  
  
Starling had claimed that they had met in the base and yet, impossibly, Orlane had watched him leave for Mars and no Earth transports had since descended to Earth, blocked by the solar flare. Not to mention the communication blockade which meant that she couldn’t check back with Mars to verify.   
  
Digging into Starling’s own background hadn’t yielded much data either and much of it she suspected to be fictional, although the woman always managed to send detailed and useful reports back to Vers.   
  
There was one tenuous lead, however, that stood out for Orlane. Starling’s DNA was a confirmed positive for a former prisoner of the Ides institute, a defunct Terran organisation dedicated to space travel investigation... and dabbled in time travel technologies.   
  
To that end, rather than pursuing the investigation privately, she simply decided to find him.   
Which was why she ended up walking into his office, startling a Terran girl in the process.  
  



	30. Overdose

_In January 19th 2017, a document was published by UEF’s CDC describing a novel reverse-transcriptase inhibitor (RTI) antiretroviral drug for potential administration. The NRTI, market name (Urielzidimide) permanently prevented the transcription and use of the Aldnoah Activation Factor._ \-- Nature  
   
Someone was shining a pen torch into his eyes, making it awfully bright.  
  
‘Hmm?’ Saazbaum blinked drowsily when the light was switched off. ‘How long was I out?’  
  
Orlane slammed one bottle of labelled pain medication on to the bed side table causing the white and yellow pills – the contents of the bottle in the dark plastic to shake.  
  
‘Pin point pupils. Weak pulse. You ended up missing for an entire day and a half. Were you trying to kill yourself with a painkiller overdose?’ She read the label. ‘Two tablets of MST, taken twice daily. Two, by the way, doesn’t equal three tablets and most definitely not four tablets.’  
  
‘So you were keeping an eye on my medication.’  
  
‘Idiot, I keep an eye on your dosage schedule when you prove incapable of maintaining it yourself.’   
  
He raised one palm to push his hair off his face and was about to comment with spectacular precision that it was nobody’s business how many he took because his health was his own problem before he froze. He was in his own bed and somebody had taken the time to change him into a pair of pyjamas.   
  
No, that wasn’t the problem. It was the TARDIS that was the problem. He last remembered being in the console room when it had started getting hazy. It meant that someone had unlocked the door and pulled him out. And the TARDIS was significantly bigger on the inside than on the outside, which posed many interesting conundrums for anybody who had never travelled in it.   
  
He froze guiltily, then meant to wriggle out from underneath the covers but Orlane leaned over to carefully pin down the covers down on either side where it didn’t hurt with a dangerous glitter in her eyes.   
  
‘On second thoughts, I apologise for the intrusion. You are correct, I have places to be.’ He objected. Heart slamming in his rib cage, he actually felt slightly ill about what was going to happen next.   
  
‘Did you honestly think that I’d care about for you so little, that you’d have to tell lies to stay here?’  
  
His own face betrayed him and faltered.   
  
‘I thought so. Relax. I know about your little time travel problem, but I’m hardly going to tell anyone else. Recover in your own time and we’ll deal with it then.’  
  
Although his entire body was still, she could see that he was squirming in his eyes, still wishing that he was as far from here as possible. ‘What gave me away?’ he asked after a little while, conceding defeat and closed his eyes.  
  
‘We’re married.’  
  
‘Oh.’ It was a rather salient point which he hadn’t overlooked so much as try to pointedly bury. He’d always intended to leave first before he could have been asked about it. He had decency to actually look suitably contrite. ‘I’m sorry, this must be rather awkward-‘  
  
She kissed him and he immediately forgot everything he was about to say. It wasn’t a deep but the contact made his heart flutter so hard in his chest it hurt.   
  
When she ended the kiss she said, ‘I was lying, we’re due to be married in a month. I just wanted to see your reaction.’  
  
‘Hmph.’ He snorted lightly feeling rather than seeing her smile, trying to collect his wits and act gallantly. Where was that all-important composure when he needed it? ‘You never change.’ He said, but placed his hand over hers and curled his digits so that their fingers interlocked and she dipped her head over his and, carefully wrapped another arm around his back so they were snug.   
  
‘Promise me that you won’t do it again next time.’ She said searchingly in a whisper which tickled his hair. It was very warm, but much more pleasant than a drug induced haze. It was nice, being here with her. Since her death, he’d missed her so much. It had hurt, never being able to say goodbye, one cut transmission had cleaved them forever.  
  
‘I promise,’ he said resting his forehead against hers, wishing that he could stay like this forever, just the two of them on this planet.  
  



	31. Key

_Due to its extremely long half-life and side effects including cell necrosis, human trials were suspended. However subsequent reports suggested that human testing continued on Martian POWs to prevent viral transmission of the factor through bodily fluids_. -- Nature  
  
Orlane dropped by Liv’s office in block 45. It was decorated with a small Terran manufactured granite plaque, set in the war perpendicular to the solid metal sheen of the doorway which was associated with all landing castles.   
  
Inside, the surroundings were homely. A coffee mug left an imprint on an A4 sheet of paper. The computer was a light beechwood, purchased cheaply from IKEA. A few files sat open in midair as Liv typed, glowing green letters jumping to her fingers. She looked up when she approached and closed the document.    
  
She slid the key – it looked very ordinary in its silvery and polished Terran design which the original owner was probably fond of – on its bead chain across the table.   
  
‘Thankyou, Countess.’ Liv said, winding the chain around the teeth before pocketing it. ‘I hope that it came in useful.’  
  
‘It did, thankyou very much. Sorry for taking up so much of your time, earlier.’  
  
‘It’s no problem.’ She said, drawing back, folding her arms and making eye contact. ‘It’s always a pleasure to work with.’  
  
‘Saazbaum can be one very stubborn patient, so thank you for being so patient.’  
  
‘He’s hardly difficult, compared to some of the othr patients in my time.’ Liv said, leaning back in her flexible computer chair – probably also Terran in manufacture – and sighed. ‘Let’s see. He’s probably one of the easier ones, although they don’t usually run off in TARDISes like that. At least he read the prescription before subverting it on purpose.’  
  
‘Perhaps you are right, I see-’  
  
‘You don’t see.’ A smile graced her features, smoothing out a few stress lines on her face. ‘This other patient of mine turned up when there is a functional time loop causing all kinds of havoc including patients turning into ghosts. Also, aliens, arrived intending to sterilise the site. Therefore, handling a normal person who at least acknowledges my advice is a welcome, once in a while.’   
  
‘Did you travel a lot?’ the Orbital Knight wanted to know.  
  
‘Oh certainly.’ She stretched her arms above her head, imagining the hundreds of different planets in the skies and all the wars being fault. ‘In every case, there was always the people making the difference. Although my travelling days are over, I suspect.’ She made a face at the plankton favoured paste which she was eating. It was a far cry from the exquisite pastries of Borasbodon, but she supposed it was far better than the slop which she had been fed in the Dalek prison camps.   
  
Besides, she’d probably salvage some food from the TARDIS later. It couldn’t have all been charred to cinders if Saazbaum had gotten his hands on some of the best drinking chocolate in the Quaine System and the rest of the Earthlings were eating food of adequate nutritional content.   
  
She thought about the Doctor’s reaction when he discovered that the pantries had been raided and chuckled.  
  



	32. [Interlude] The Case of the Unicorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To wit this adventure is was inspired by this /a/non translated gem: (>>115879142)  
> ... It's a summary of what Slaine went through, his life with Cruhteo, being with Asseylum, meeting Saazbaum and what happened in episode 12... Whoever wrote it thinks that "Slaine is able to understand Saazbaum's pure heart"...

_Unicorns typically appear before virgins who are pure of heart; in word, deed and snack preference._ – The Book You Thought That You Would Never Need (Ever)  
  
Nina had been walking close to the time machine in the windowed rooms to the left of Saazbaum’s suites when she met and was subsequently mugged by the unicorn.  
  
‘Uh?’ She said. A distance away from her socked feet and sleepers it stood there. Snorting. Hoof raking the white floor, in its equally resplendent white coat and gleaming mane, standing at almost 2 metres.  
  
‘Hand it over,’ the creature had growled in a low voice, waving its mane threateningly. A pearlescent single horn in the same colour shot from its head, coiling down in whorls to end in a lethal point. She yelped as it exposed large molars and it snuffled her wetly, pointing the conical instrument in her direction.  
  
‘The chocolate, human.’ it whickered and nipped her clothes managing to tear the red flame like ribbon pinned in a bow to her school uniform with a yank. It looked surprised, when the cloth came free. It was too much for Nina and so she panicked fleeing back to Saazbaum’s office as fast as she could run, hearing the hoofbeats behind her.  
  
It gave a half-hearted chase down the hallway and whuffed the air again. ‘Selfish,’ it whinged, then flicked up its ears and trotted back over to the window to get a better look at the view which did not show Golden Gate Park. 

* * *

‘So let me clarify.’ Saazbaum said. The smile looked positively impish on his face, which made Nina feel completely self-conscious. He leaned back in his plush chair and crossed his arms as casually as he could. ‘You were attacked by a unicorn which wanted chocolate. And did you actually have any chocolate on you?’ The question was phrased like an interrogation, but the amusement was everywhere in his voice.  
  
She surrendered to a slight case of the sniffles, still in her school uniform. ‘No. I haven’t had any drinking chocolate since yesterday either.’  
  
‘A gentleman always offers a lady a tissue. Here, take one.’ He reached over and swiftly moved the box forward so she could reach it. In the Martian swallow-tailed coat, he could have resembled a school principle. Apart from the positively wicked delight of a school boy dancing in merrily in his brown eyes.  
  
‘This isn’t funny!’ She protested shrilly, brandishing her hands and refusing them. ‘It could be wandering around your Landing Castle right now. We’d be compromised. What if it escapes? It’s not like you can Viceroy out everyone who sees it!’  
  
‘Perhaps you have a point, Miss Klein’ Saazbaum admitted. ‘Approximately how large was this unicorn?’  
  
Nina narrowed her eyes reflexively in the suspicion that he was having another particularly good laugh at her in private.  
  
‘The size of a normal horse.’ When the Count didn’t respond, she said prodded him gently. ‘Um. You Martians do know what a horse is, right?’  
  
It turned out that he knew what a steed was, though somehow hadn’t made the connection between that and a galloping four legged animal. 

* * *

  
‘A unicorn, right? Aren’t they mythical?’ Calm said. He’d already decided that he was going to name it Charlie. Not in reference to the video, he assured her.  
  
He had been peering around the TARDIS for about two hours with Yuki trying not to trample the Doctor’s things but they hadn’t seen anything of the beast.  
  
She shrugged, raising the palm of her hands skyward as if the gods alone could answer her prayer. ‘I have no idea.’  
  
‘Maybe it’s attracted to Saazbaum.’ Calm was practically glowing. ‘He’s the source of all chocolate, isn’t he? And the myths say-‘  
  
‘Calm.’ She gritted out.  
  
‘What?’  
  
‘Can I remind you that what he does in his spare time is his own business?’  
  
Calm looked utterly crestfallen. ‘I wasn’t implying anything!’ He said, rapidly backtracking. ‘I was thinking about something completely different. Wouldn’t it be interesting if we let it run around in the corridors for one day. I mean, the guy could use some lightening up and all the Martians around him are really dull and boring. They could do something else for one day, couldn’t they?’  
  
‘Yeah?’  
  
‘Like catching a really large and mythical white horse.’ Calm said, making really big eyes.  
  
‘Don’t. Please, just don’t.’  
  
‘We have a unicorn problem.’ Saazbaum told Orlane patiently, as he walked with his hands behind the small of his back.  
  
‘Is this possibly related to the chicken problem or a new problem?’ She said tiredly. There had been a spontaneous outbreak of small fluffy and cheeping creatures in the Landing Castle. It was some inexplicable technical fault with the time machine had caused it to become connected to the kitchens, offending and frightening some of the staff who had to be calmed down because they had thought that the birds were biological weapons.  
  
Apparently, in the TARDIS and survived the crash landing because the fires had been channelled into the least important rooms. The swimming pool, on the other hand, had not been so lucky as most of the water had evaporated in the intense heat, however the water level was still recovering for a reason which nobody understood.  
  
‘It’s a new problem.’ She gave him a disbelieving stare, so he changed tactics. ‘A new problem,’ he amended, ‘Of the same nature.’  
  
She released a long suffering sigh and checked the time. Then moved her head outside the door. Outside, a uniformed Martian saluted. ‘Call in Krachkoff. Please.’ It was far too early in the morning for another headache.  
  


* * *

  
‘Attention. A large and white animal approximately 2 metres in height with hooves has been located in block 23. Do not attempt to attack it or approach it, but report its presence immediately to your supervising officer. Thank you for listening to this announcement.’

* * *

  
‘Could I be direct, Saazbaum?’ Darzana asked bluntly, arms folded. Like him, she was never out of uniform, her brown hair cut so straight that a guillotine could have given her that hairline.     
  
At first it’d seemed odd to address him without his title but he seemed to prefer it and encourage it. However, she had to draw the line on informality somewhere and that was at nicknames.  
  
There was no way that an Orbital Knight of any description would be fine with being called ‘Salsa’ on a daily basis so she prohibited Calm from using it to avoid further offending every Martian in their presence. It had, admittedly, slipped out of the boy yesterday, during yesterday’s trivia night – the allotted activity in the time Saazbaum had set aside to humour them, while losing badly.  
  
 ‘Certainly. Use whatever level of bluntness you have at your disposal.’ He remarked.    
  
‘What on Earth are you doing?’ The Count was feeding a large happy white unicorn which flicked its tail from one side to the other what looked like chocolate from one hand. It was brown and sweet smelling.  
  
‘Establishing peaceful relations, Colonel, with a member of an intelligent species.’ He said and patted the unicorn fondly. ‘We all have to start somewhere, don’t we, Charlie?’  
  
But as amusing as she found the fact that somebody had neglected to inform Saazbaum of the existence of a Youtube video, she didn’t fail to notice that he had something else on his mind. The worry showed for a moment in his eyes though it was flattened with practiced ease into a neutral expression moments later.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The unicorn is from 'Unnatural History' (that's right, the one who mobbed Fitz Kreiner for chocolate)


	33. [Part 2] Traitors on a Radiant Planet

Saazbaum was reluctant to trust Krachkoff, but the Doctor had agreed with Inaho that the communications blockade would simply draw more attention. If both the security chief and Orlane were on his side, the threat of exposure would be neutered, so opening the channel would give them more forewarning.  
  
‘I’ll drop the interference by a few points every minute to keep it natural,’ Doctor Chenka said, aligning her hands over the panels. The white lab coat with the bordering had been rolled up casually at the sleeve as if she was unconsciously rebelling against the order that Vers was attempting to impose.  
He’d noticed that he’d ceased thinking of her as Starling in much the same way that he’d stopped thinking of Terrans simply as enemy or allies. Over time, familiarity began to breed respect which in turn brought about understanding.    
  
Krachkoff, on the other hand, was hovering around, a dark cloud of resignation in his sleek navy and red uniform with his polished buttons. He hadn’t shown any signs of disobedience yet, but he’d openly shown his dislike of Saazbaum now that it had been revealed that he was, effectively, his own imposter and was willingly working with the Terrans. He was an honourable man but imbued with the same xenophobia against Terrans as every other Martians and tensely turned up his nose whenever any of them got too close to himself or Orlane.  
  
Still, the man had saved his life. Which meant that returning the favour was in order and Saazbaum did not forget his debts.  
  
So he held up a charcoal grey and maroon outfit. Light reflected off the gold buttons, giving it an almost bronze undertone. The man didn’t sneer, but he did eye it dubiously.  
  
‘I won’t be bought, traitor,’ he said in a passionless voice. The same one he’d used when Orlane had suggested her Security Chief simply deliver himself to the Terran controlled naval base so he, the Doctor, Inaho, Slaine and Asseylum could be swapped for their Terran hostages. The Time Lord had been rather sombre on the plan, pointing out that plenty of things could go wrong, especially if the TARDIS hadn’t been given enough time to recuperate.    
  
Unfortunately, no one had managed to think of a better plan.  
  
‘Really now. I have no personal stake in your elevation to Viscount.’ he told the man sombrely. ‘I intend to return back to my own reality at the soonest convenience and Orlane has agreed that it would be a good idea if the ranks of Vers were swelled by people possessing integrity. I think that you would fit the bill perfectly and she will recommend you for promotion.’  
  
 ‘And so you keep saying.’ He muttered. ‘I’m just a soldier. I have no opinion. I do my job, not because I like it,’ He said pointedly, poking one forefinger at Saazbaum’s chest.  
  
‘Plenty of people would jump at the idea of advancement.’  
  
The man scowled, considerably.  
  
‘You misinterpret my intentions. Please reconsider my words. Only the people who have the most integrity would turn a privilege down.’  
  
‘You phrase your thoughts so beautifully.’ Frank, then. ‘I can see how the Emperor fell for your words so easily.’  
  
Saazbaum merely inclined his head as if it was a compliment, then held out his hand. Krachkoff shook it once, lacking the pompous ceremony or respect that Vers usually demanded. ‘I’m just an imposter, with only a passing influence here.’  
  
Finally, the other man nodded. For a change, he found the honesty invigorating. He himself disliked lying unless it was a painful necessity.  
  



	34. Plotting

_The relationship between Romeo and Juliet was destined to end in tragedy from the start, as the Capulets and Montagues thought only in terms of honour and affront, defining characters in loyalty – Capulet or Montague, one or the other. And yet, in spite of the contrived binary, the colour of their blood remained the same._ – Shakespeare Revisited   
  
Slaine had been given a small cargo plane to pilot as he was hopeless at the Sleipnir. It seemed that a few days of high intensity tutoring and instruction hadn’t yielded results and lacking the lifetime of teaching that Inaho had he would have only presented a burden on the battlefield. The plane controls, while similar to the Sky Carrier he was used to, were stiff with disuse and the vessel didn’t have any inbuilt weaponry.   
  
In any case, it wasn’t likely that he’d be a burden for much longer. They’d decided that the best option was to pass themselves plus the Doctor and Krachkoff across as hostages in exchange for Magbaredge and their group during a truce situation. And Saazbaum, or rather Inaho’s, plan was in full steam as they’d successfully ensured that Krachkoff had been ‘captured’ under the cover of combat. Tensions had run high in the Terran camp, however, and Summats had been red faced at the Doctor for suggesting such a preposterous and risky incursion, insisting several times that the Time Lord was a Martian spy, out to bait them into a trap.   
    
Yet the Time Lord had once again successfully worked his persuasive magic and so here he was. One moody Krachkoff in tow on the return journey sitting in the co-pilot seat. Asseylum and the Doctor were chatting away in one of the passenger seats, Inaho further back flicking through diagnostics.   
  
The chief of security said grumpily as they soared along at low altitude. ‘I can’t believe I’m participating in this farce.’  
  
‘Well, you did volunteer to.’ Slaine said, altering the course subtly. It was true, the man had elected to go, seeing it as his responsibility to carry out Countess Orlane’s wishes even if he personally disagreed with the entire operation.   
  
‘And of course you must be, the infamous Slaine Troyard. Pilot extraordinaire, owner of one of the greatest Activation Factors obtained from illegitimate means. Viceroy Saazbaum held Doctor Troyard in great esteem, but when things spiralled out of control you became too much of a liability and had to be put down.’  
  
‘Well, that’s reassuring.’ Slaine said, briefly acknowledging the fun times ahead if they never got off this reality. His eyes were fixed ahead. He missed Tharsis’ fluid controls. The plane was chunky and running on petroleum hooked up to hydrogen as a second power source. He didn’t want to think what would happen if the Doctor’s little device made of salvaged junk and duct tape failed halfway when they were up in the air.   
  
Clearly Krachkoff had similar reservations. His fingers tightened over the flimsy black safety belt around his waist and diagonally across his torso.   
  
‘I was a loyalist.’ He said. ‘Never did want to go to Earth anyway.’ He smiled a bit. ‘The sight of too much water makes me feel ill.’ He continued. ‘Thought we were better off out in the stars, mining oxygen in the asteroid belt. It wouldn’t have worked anyway, but at least we would have died with a little bit of honour.’   
  
Slaine noticed a glint of an enormous steaming silver shard had stabbed the rubble of city below in the distance. Krachkoff conversation tapered off. It was the first sign that something was amiss.  
  
‘Exploratory craft,’ the Martian said abruptly. ‘We’re in trouble, the Viceroy has already landed.’  
  
‘It’s smaller and faster than a landing castle, but it will still be equipped with anti-aircraft missiles,’ Asseylum said entering from behind them. The Doctor and Inaho tailed her.   
  
Saazbaum chose that moment to flicker across their view screen. ‘Slaine, abort this mission,’ he ordered. ‘The Viceroy is not abiding by the truce and is preparing heat sensitive missiles.’  
  
Down below, out of the silver ship made tiny by the distance, four tiny silver bullet shapes streaked flexing smoke antennae. They were rapidly converging.  
  
‘Could you destroy them using your Landing Castle?’ Inaho asked.  
  
‘That is impossible to achieve without compromising Orlane’s position. Receiving fire from a Landing Castle… those actions would amount to treachery or alert my other self to the fact that there are insurgents’ He replied.   
  
So they were on their own.   
  
‘Attention, four hostile heat signatures have been detected. Velocity: 200m/s and climbing.’ A robotic female voice announced. Slaine risked a glance next to him. ‘Five kilometres.’  
  
The Doctor had swapped places with Krachkoff and had belted himself into the co-pilot’s seat. I’ll take it from here.’ He flicked a grin, ‘Besides, I’ve got more experience in situations like this one. Grab onto something.’ Before the boy could protest, he’d grasped the yolk and sent the nose of the plane into a pitch so steep that it was almost vertical, into a spiralling plunge downwards.   
  
‘Three kilometres and gaining.’  
  
Saazbaum’s eyes grew narrow with a hint of worry. ‘Prepare my Dioscuria.’ He ordered.   
  
‘Far too obvious,’ Inaho stated but he’d already terminated the communications, the last image transmitted had been the Count taking off at a run.   
  
They plummeted rapidly, Slaine was almost face forward as he grasped the horizontal beam around him. His stomach rolled into his heart. The lights blinked on and off and four silver streaks appeared as blips on their screen.   
  
‘One kilometre.’ Now they were really feeling the ripping g-force. Whatever the Doctor had done to the little craft had dampened the worst of it, but it didn’t stop Slaine from feeling as if his organs were about to exit his body. The Time Lord’s expression, on the other hand, seemed to take it eagerly in his stride.  
  
After about an eternity, four missiles careened off in the wrong direction overhead but they righted themselves and plumed back in smooth arcs of smoke.   
  
The Doctor’s eyes moves rapidly, testing and judging. The missiles were fast but his reflexes and the ship were faster. He sent them into a spinning roll, the lurch causing all four of them to almost topple into each other. Slaine clenched his teeth, expecting the jarring impact, the thud, the crash but nothing happened.   
  
Until it did, one blinding fireball emerged in the engine compartment.  
  
‘Primary engines down, switching to secondary petroleum.’  
  



	35. Escape

_Both sides utilise insults, in the immature and vulgarity of the thumb-biting the two families find contest. Always, each side seeks to demean the other. Even on their death-bed, the characters are unable to set aside their differences. In grief and mortally wounded, Mercutio lets loose a litany, Romeo is a ‘dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to sscratch a man to death!  a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic!’_ – Shakespeare Revisited  
  
He had about ten minutes, he estimated, before the other Saazbaum broadcasted and they put two and two together or he got the hell out of there and Orlane covered for him.  
  
She was already waiting in the Kataphrakt docking stations for the planned evacuation, briefly touching her lips to his cheek. He hugged her, as much as time would allow, before moving away.   
  
‘Take care,’ she said, stepping back as two of her people helped him step into Disocuria and handed him supplies. The Terrans already had backpacks on and oxygen masks as arranged in the case of emergency. ‘We’ll meet again, I promise.’ She called, but it was the voice of a relative serenading a loved one goodbye, never knowing if they were ever going to come back.  
  
Or if he returned, perhaps it would be as an enemy rather than as a friend. He glanced at her briefly.   
  
He would have taken the TARDIS too, but there simply hadn’t been time at it was too bulky to carry on top of multiple humans.   
  
He said goodbye, feeling tears dampen his cheeks as the distance between them increased. He entered the cockpit. One of the first things he’d done after being well enough to get up and walk around the landing castle was to remove every heaven forsaken tracking device he remembered placing on the machine in his paranoia and the traps left in the subroutines. He’d also consulted the older Saazbaum’s notes on the matter, careful to read the coded parts.    
  
In the cockpit of Dioscuria, diagnostics autoran. Readings flashed over the transparent oval screens and he felt the drive brush up against his mind. It was a feeling not unlike the TARDIS. Yet while the latter always extended a neutral warm curiosity, the touch of Aldnoah felt inimical as it read his activation factor because of his purposefully infrequent usage in recent times. Since his travels, he had become more wary of the drives, staying away from them wherever possible. With frequency or extended contact, the drives would become incrementally more pleasant to use to the point that the user would begin to crave contact.   
  
He suspected that dependence was by design and not a flaw. It was traditional to take the newly knighted and expose them to the drives as many times as possible to familiarise contact. The shock of using a drive in the first few times could easily distract the user enough to kill them in combat whilst drive dependence was seen as a harmless side effect. Since Aldnoah was so widespread, knights rarely went without daily contact and as long as the use was paced out, dependence rarely developed to intolerable levels.    
  
In any case, he knelt Dioscuria and held out the palms of the Kataphrakt, watching as the small forms of Darzana and the other Terrans climbed onboard. When the process was complete, Darzana signalled Orlane and opened a communications channel. Each of their backpacks contained dried rations, emergency equipment including knives, penlights together with self contained oxygen masks. A few flare guns had also been divvied up between them. Marito, in particular, was holding one.   
  
‘Ready?’ She enquired. He drew in a breath and they shot out into the sky.   
  



	36. Fire

_And yet, the origin of the Capulet and Montague feud is lost in the history of time. The cause of the conflict was not important, only the continuation of it mattered_.  – Shakespeare Revisited  
  
Dioscuria’s offensive capacities were greatly hampered by his passengers. The dimensional barrier had been limited to the back of the Kataphrakt, to limit potential casualties if the Terrans fell and one camera was trained on them at all times. The plasma blade was usable with limited manoeuvrability.  
  
And then there was Orlane’s reaction if he ended up firing or otherwise mortally wounding her betrothed who was also technically an older version of himself.  
  
Well. He had to defend himself against the person somehow, didn’t he? And nobody had forced his other self to break the truce. It was a conscious choice.  
  
‘Ships incoming, three of them.’ Darzana reported. They were the pyramidic type of black and red vessel more suited towards carrying foot soldiers, not heavily armoured. From the cameras, the Viceroy’s Martian forces hadn’t expected to be attacked by their commander’s own Kataphrakt and had been briefed only to expect Terran interference.  
  
A few pilots gaped as they were obliterated by the blue plasma as Martian technology met Martian technology. His superior Kataphrakt won. It was as easy and deft as swatting an annoying gnat and Saazbaum let a slight sneer grace his face, which Darzana pretended not to see.  
  
In the inevitable confusion, one pilot actually winded up trying to contact Dioscuria and succeeded before Saazbaum realised that he’d forgotten to shut down attempted Martian contacts whilst keeping channels of communication open. Dioscuria destroyed the pilot in a blink, cleaving the plane in two with a missile and the two black fragments of the fallen craft fell away to explode in a burst of light.  
  
‘The plane is on the east border of the destroyed UE,’ Darzana reminded him, in the low thrumming of the drives. ‘Don’t get carried away.’  
  
‘I am aware’ he said with some irritation, but decided to put a tight lid on the emotions. He banked the Kataphrakt, causing it to hover in a low circle. Still, it was tempting to turn around and destroy the rest of the crafts especially the ones attempting to put a medium ranged ballistic missiles past the dimensional barrier so he could hunt in peace.  
  
The plane containing the Doctor, Slaine and the rest had winded up as wreckage on the outskirts of the last true shelter of humanity. The landing strip had long been destroyed. A quick review of the monitors told him that Inaho was already wearing his communications collar and the rest of them had moved out of the wreckage. He dropped to the ground in front of them and they quickly ran.  
  
Krachkoff didn’t climb onto Dioscuria’s palm.  
  
‘I have one of the Princess’ laser comms,’ He broadcasted, ‘I’ll make my own way back to the landing Castle.’  
  
‘Chief Krachkoff, is it not the leader’s responsibility to ensure the safety of his subordinates in the fastest and most direct means possible?’  
  
The man’s retreating back stiffened but he didn’t stop walking. ‘And how many of those precious subordinates do you think you’ve killed by just being here?’  
  
‘I’m sorry.’ Saazbaum said, sincerely. ‘For putting you in that kind of situation.  
  
‘Farewell. Although it was interesting meeting this version of you, I can hardly say I enjoyed it.’

* * *

  
Viceroy Saazbaum barely moved as five of his ships were blown off the screen by his own Kataphrakt but he was seething. The thief wielded Dioscuria with precision, despite his precious cargo. He caught himself admiring the man’s skill and had to tear his eyes away from the screen.  
  
And once again, he had to contend with the activation factor of a person who had allegiance to Earth.  
  
‘Hmph, so this is how it ends.’ He said quietly. Then spoke out bitingly. ‘Launch our Kataphrakts, all five. Capture Dioscuria’s pilot alive, but terminate every Terran travelling with Dioscuria. Then terminate every last pocket of resistance you can find. Globally. The remaining clans are descending as I speak.’  
  
‘Sir, I recommend a meteorite bombardment,’ said a senior officer.  
  
‘And kill Countess Orlane?’ He turned, causing the other man to blanch. ‘I think not, Dioscuria’s dimensional barrier would absorb the worst of it anyway. Our immediate priority is to recover Chief Krachkoff who will likely have more information on the locations of Terran resistance. Soldiers, move out.’  
  



	37. Route

_I was the owner of a hostel on Lake Baikal. I remember the fateful incident clearly because a man in black shamanist accoutrements had run to me in alarm. Traditionally we were opposed to his people, but I could see that he was in a panic_. – Excerpts from the War   
  
No sooner had they flown over Omsk that they came under fire by Kataphrakts.   
  
Saazbaum internally cursed his overconfidence as he saw the five blips. It was looking less and less likely that they were going to be able to put enough distance between the Viceroy’s forces to lose them. Despite Dioscuria’s stealth capacities it was very difficult to miss if one had eyes in their head. Namely a large black and red mecha.  
  
To make matters worse, he had the handicap of being unable to attack without revealing his location or exposing the passengers.   
  
‘We’re going to have to go up,’ The Doctor shouted over the roar blizzard. It had gotten warmer in the past week but they’d waded into unexpectedly bad weather today.  ‘The clouds might help to cover us long enough to escape.’  
  
They went further up into the atmosphere. On the outside of Dioscuria, his passengers would be exposed to the elements: it would become difficult to breathe due to the reduced pressure  and it was becoming colder, despite the warmth exuded by the operational Dioscuria.   
  
‘Not if they’re scanning for vital signs,’ Slaine clarified. ‘Things like body heat output are still going to lure them here.’  
  
‘So that’s how you located Deucalion, eh?’ Marito said. He was eating some of therations. He closed his eyelids. ‘Martians never know when to give up. I’m afraid this might be the end.’  
  
Inaho shot the Lieutenant a look which was as closed to annoyed as humanly possible for him.   
  
‘Dioscuria’s stealth abilities already mask vital signs.’  
  
‘Even if they’re on the outside?’ The boy asked as they narrowly dodged a stream of bullet fire shot from an avian blue-yellow Kataphrakt with white streaks. From their vantage point, the shots looked like fireflies, deadly, burning but also beautiful. This one was equipped with softly glowing wings, which, if Saazbaum’s memory served him correctly was owned by Countess Dlava, a usually sedentary woman who was incredibly persistent when roused. The other four Kataphrakts were conducting a search sweep.   
  
‘Correct, the distance covered by the camouflage field can be extended.’  
  
‘And your engine’s heat signatures?’ Darzana looked thoughtful.   
  
‘The energy output from Aldnoah is too great to mask, we’re producing a tremendous amount of heat to maintain this altitude.’ Saazbaum admitted. ‘I could reduce the output if I took the weapons system and the barrier system offline.’  
  
Inaho thought for a while. ‘Take down the barrier system and travel further up. If they are conducting a sweep your barrier will come up as a dead spot.’  
  
‘The combination of lowered pressure, cold and reduced heat output from Dioscuria could be lethal,’ Saazbaum warned. ‘Do you have a sufficient reason to?’  
  
‘We have oxygen masks. It will give us about six hours.’ The boy deduced. ‘We have to take that risk.’ He clambered down to help Asseylum fit hers over her face, removing the line from the oxygen tank from the backpack and testing the apparatus. It was getting deeper into the afternoon, this high in the sky the clouds had acquired an orange-purple hue.  
  
When they were done, Saazbaum’s Kataphrakt climbed in altitude again, leaving the cloud cover behind like a fluffy blanket. Inaho loaded a 40 mm flare gun with gloved and numb hands. He slotted the compressed magnesium into one chamber. He motioned Asseylum, Marito and Darzana to do the same.   
  
‘How many missiles do you have left?’   
  
‘Twenty three, excluding the dummies. These heavy armaments won’t pierce the Kataphrakts as easily as the UE base and your flare guns won’t have any effect. The Kataphrakt with wings we saw earlier is designed to weather heavy missile fire.’ Saazbaum said.   
  
‘We’ll have to pick them off one by one,’ Inaho decided. ‘What are the special capabilities of the other Kataphrakts?’  
  
‘One is able to create duplications of itself using Aldnoah projections, the other two are scouts designed to rout out enemies with sensory arrays, and the last –‘  
  
‘We’ll start there,’ Inaho interrupted him. ‘Assuming that without the scouts they’ll be virtually blind, can you lure them in and ambush them one by one?’  
  



	38. Misfortune

_He had sighted my children playing outside the lake, but it was not the dead cold which turned my heart to ice but fear of the Martian skylords descending like the wrath of the oikony noyod on our island._ – Excerpts from the War  
  
Viscount Temeraine would have preferred to be napping back in his superior’s Landing Castle or threatening the local population of a small holiday island such as Hawaii with a beach and a fantastic view of the ocean. He’d been particularly taken by the apparent nice weather in all seasons of the year. Instead of an idyllic beach, he’d found himself hunting Viceroy Saazbaum’s heaven forsaken machine in the dead of winter. Even though his Kataphrakt was well equipped for situations with poor visibility he found himself lamenting his impaired ability to see more than a few feet with his eyes.  
  
He knew the thief was currently a few kilometres in the upper atmosphere, but Temeraine had long since decided that the fighting and the tracking was best left to the experts. Besides, whoever it was, they were outnumbered. Besides, he told himself, his machine had little to no offensive capability and posed no threat to anyone except Terrans and he certainly didn’t want a missile denting that beautiful shiny paint job.   
  
He was content to sit and wait for the other four to deal with the messy problem and reap a promotion without bending a finger. Although the Viceroy… that man was scary. Maybe he believed that someone had activated Dioscuria without his permission but surely with Slaine Troyard dead and Princess Asseylum also dead there was no one to interfere with his plans.  
  
The man had probably just forgotten to turn off the drive and was now trying to scapegoat it onto someone else. Mother always said that power hungry people like that were determined to forget their wrongdoings. And Mother was always right.  
  
Which was why he was so startled when the Viceroy suddenly initiated a communication. For some reason, the man had left the video off, but Temeraine could recognise that drawling voice from anywhere. He jumped rapidly to attention.  
  
‘Temeraine, Temeraine.’ Even now, the Viceroy’s voice was so languid it practically slithered. ‘I recall directly requesting that you participate in the mission to retrieve my Kataphrakt.’ and here the voice took on a subtle undertone which made Temeraine imagine many bad things happening to him, ‘Though you seem to have misinterpreted the order to include slothful daydreaming and an attempt to Countess Dlava’s credit later on.’  
  
He moved his Kataphrakt forward, noting the fact that Viceroy ‘Stickler to the Details’ had deliberately dropped his title. ‘I am actively participating in this mission,’ he added hurriedly in the small voice of a chastised child.  
  
Here the Viceroy let out a sigh that could have filled a small balloon. Not that there were any balloons on Mars, a fact that Temeraine hoped to remedy soon. Then again, Temeraine owned plenty of things that weren’t technically from Mars, like the cassette recorder he had picked up at an online bargain from a Terran.   
  
He was so distracted that it took him a while to notice the three heat signatures above him.  
  



	39. Death

_I picked up my winter gear and a long barrelled rifle and Shu followed me, a great black and white loping shape with a lolling tongue as we ran to the site of trouble. When we arrived on the scene, we saw only a skylord man in red and gold and a young girl, but there was no sign of their demonic machines._ – Excerpts from the War  
  
In Dioscuria, Saazbaum tapped the console idly with one fingernail. Incompetent Temeraine had been but he’d dodged two of the missiles. The third one homed in on his drive and took his ship apart.  
  
‘Regrettable,’ he said aloud. He knew that Temeraine was no threat and crippled by insecurity but with him down, it was one less threat to deal with. Four more to go.  
  
The Doctor looked furious as the screen cleaved in half to show him next to Inaho like a cell undergoing mitosis. ‘Regrettable Saazbaum? That was casual murder! You were targeting a person who wasn’t even actively part of the battle.’  
  
‘His death was regrettable, the fact that we are at war is also most regrettable. However, he might have alerted the other Kataphrakts.  However, I have more people to worry about then your sensitive pacifist tendencies,’ He retorted and reached over to mute the Doctor but the infuriating Time Lord hacked through the block in a matter of seconds.   
  
‘Just take a look at yourself,’ the Doctor said in a voice of coldness. ‘Tell me, are you any better than the person you are fighting?’   
  
‘Hmphh! As I am the same person as the person I’m fighting, I believe your comparison is completely nonsensical.’ Saazbaum replied, voice growing in irritation, though guilt was beginning to roll a little through his lower belly.   
  
‘We can worry about this later,’ The Princess said a little anxiously, holding the flare gun. The cloud layer still flew below them, lit by the sunset. ‘Dlava’s Kataphrakt, if we lure it in, couldn’t we attempt to blind her?’  
  
‘It you could aim a flare at the cockpit, but beyond that it wouldn’t exert any meaningful effect,’ the Count said doubtfully.   
  
‘It’s an excellent plan.’ Slaine said, after a moment. ‘If you got close enough to the cockpit, then we would reduce the likelihood of our shots being pushed off track by the wind.’  
  
‘And with your offensive capabilities, the Knights will have their eyes on you and not us. There won’t be any visual interference from the clouds, either. There will be plenty of time for Dioscuria to finish the job.’ Inaho concluded, crouching over the side to ready himself for his own part.   
  



	40. Parting

_I crouched to fire on the man, but then Altantsetseg my daughter cried ‘Wait!’ and ran at a fast trot to me on chubby legs._ – Excerpts from the War  
  
The battle might have been one, but the skirmish in the sky simply drew more scouts from the Viceroy. After a temporary break from the Martian forces, the difficult but realistic decision was for the group to split up.   
  
‘It won’t do us any good if they catch all of us in one fell swoop,’ The Doctor had said. Slaine knew that he still hadn’t lost the hope of recovering his TARDIS.   
  
Darzana and the others had called into the remains of the UE and had been dropped off at a secure location, a populated military underground base located in one of the outwardly most of the inhospitable regions on Earth – the Tibetan Mountain ranges. As long as he stayed alive and the TARDIS was not destroyed they’d have no difficulty with communicating with the locals, the Doctor had told them firmly. And it would take more than an entire Vers army to get into the TARDIS, without a key.  
  
Saazbaum wasn’t so convinced. He kept silent on the matter of Liv’s key since the Doctor had refused to hear any more about a person who was presumably a figure he’d meet in the future for fear of spoilers.   
  
Even then, it wouldn’t have been possible to stay in that place for long without endangering the base. The telltale signs of yet more cloaked Kataphrakts had been detected by Dioscuria meant that Saazbaum would have to plant a fake trail to lure the Kataphrakts off the scent of the Terran base and then lose them.   
  
At sundown, he said his goodbyes and headed off alone to make the decoy run, the last light of the day from the sun flagging the mountain ranges, filled with vegetation in a brilliant orange gold rather than the blue tint he typically associated with Earth.        
  
He was brought up short by the sight of three other figures waiting next to Dioscuria.  
   
‘I’m coming with you,’ Asseylum said, stepping forward. She was carrying a helmet to her side and swapped her long blond hair for the short mousy brown she used as a disguise and her white dress for dull military gear.   
  
 ‘As always, the Princess makes the first foolish decision.’ He said, face drawn in irritation. ‘It would be suicide and your position is here, with the rest of the Terrans who can keep you safe.’  
  
She didn’t take it. ‘Do you have a concept of what loyalty is, Count Saazbaum?’ She stressed the honorific.   
  
He winced. Slaine’s eyes slitted in amusement as he watched the man’s reaction.    
  
She saw cracks in his armour and then stabbed them, in a verbal and yet still ladylike fashion. She stood regally, in spite of her loaned appearence. ‘It means standing by the person you have sworn your fealty to. I know that you gave up your crusade to kill me at a personal cost. But more than that, I respect your decisions and your opinions these past few weeks of our acquaintance.’ She smiled.  
  
‘Likewise.’ He bowed from the waist, gravely. ‘Your Highness. He added belatedly.   
  
She made a face at the title.  ‘However, loyalty doesn’t mean that you dictate to me what I am going to do in my best interests. That doesn’t mean that I won’t listen to you. But understand that I will not be compelled to comply perfectly with the demands of my subjects on every occasion.’ She smiled, then, and although it was a perfectly innocent expression, he was suddenly reminded of Lemrina, who always insisted on having her own way. ‘I will take your advice in hand and synthesise the best decision myself as that is the role of a ruler.’   
  
‘Very well.’ He acknowledged. ‘You have grown up, princess.’ He was about to walk over to Dioscuria when Slaine grabbed his hand and tugged him.   
  
‘Where the Princess goes, I go too.’ Slaine told him too, narrowing his eyes slightly. There was a beat, causing Saazbaum to issue a sigh. Perhaps it was time to admit defeat with his position and argument compromised.   
  
‘Slaine’s case parallels mine,’ Inaho said. ‘I can provide guidance and advice and I have valuable experience taking down Kataphrakts and formulating tactics.’ He raised his chin slightly. ‘Besides, that is what we have always done in the past. Our best results come when we operate together and our actions are synchronised.’ His voice was assured.  
  
‘Anyway, wouldn’t you get lonely being out there by yourself?’ Asseylum asked. A statement that her sister, most definitely, would not have said.   
  
Saazbaum rubbed the side of his face. ‘Loneliness is relative. Besides, I met Orlane again. Shouldn’t that be enough – Ulp.’  
  
Asseylum had grabbed him in a hug. He awkwardly patted her back in response but soon ended up sprawled on his back on the grass when Slaine and Inaho – whose blank expression had melted somewhat joined in. He was thankful that by now his injuries had healed.   
  
‘This is a little more emotional than I expected,’ he said, trying to shift Her Highness and her attendants aside in order to get up. When the effort to prise them off failed he gave up for a few minutes, simply enjoying the warm moisture of the grass on his back, knowing that it wouldn’t last.  
  



	41. Home

_‘The snow,’ she said gazing upwards with wonder, ‘It’s so beautiful.’ In her mittened hands she held snow but it was like no snow that I had ever seen, it glittered in her hands like ashen diamonds._ – Excerpts from the War  
      
They limped from place to place in Dioscuria, always in search of a permanent hiding place, but never being able to stay for more than a few hours because the Kataphrakts had never stopped coming. More and more had appeared on the horizon despite Saazbaum’s weary assertions that the military might was limited by personnel and drives.   
  
The lack of sleep and eventually exhaustion began to pile on after a few days of endless running, to the point that it was quickly becoming apparent that it was dangerous for Saazbaum to continue piloting the Kataphrakt.  
  
The more he used it, the lower his inhibitions regarding the drive got and the less sleep he got. Though, unlike him, Slaine and Asseylum were still fresh. And unlike him, their Royal Factors meant that they needn’t worry about the effects of the drive.   
  
Still, the idea that someone else was using Dioscuria put him at unease. How much of that was the influence of the drive and his own emotions was getting harder to separate.  
  
‘You simply haven’t had enough sleep,’ Inaho pointed out, ‘It will impair your reflexes and co-ordination putting us in danger if we engage in combat. Plus, crashing us into the sea or the coastline may present a small problem.’  
The boy might not always show emotions but the last few lines were delivered with good natured ribbing. Inaho was perfectly competent with teasing while maintaining the perfect blank face when the occasion presented itself.  
  
‘I shouldn’t have allowed the three of you accompany me in the first place.’ Saazbaum lamented, pinching his eyes shut, but he was too exhausted even to complain about the arrangement for long.   
  
‘If we hadn’t come, you would have died before long.’ And with that solemn statement, it was decided that Asseylum would have the next turn piloting Dioscuria since she had some experience while Saazbaum slept. There was just enough room in the cockpit to fit Inaho in at the same time and it was hoped that he would learn the ropes via observation. Slaine, who had less experience then Asseylum would take the next rotation and after observing Saazbaum’s shift Inaho would fly the craft.   
  
Dioscuria’s palms were exposed to the elements but Saazbaum fell asleep in less then ten heartbeats and Asseylum, careful not to wake him pulled a thermal blanket over his form with Slaine’s help.   
  
They exchanged a brief smile when they did so.    
  



	42. Rainforest

_The remains of five dead Kataphrakts burning up on re-entry, the young girl and the skylord apologised in our tongue, but I prefer to remember the snow that day as souls descending from the heavens. One glittering flake for each person who died in the war to finally rejoin the living. On that day, they danced on the wind as if they were alive._ – Excerpts from the War  
  
Over the next few days, it dawned that all fears about Inaho’s abilities were for naught. He was a naturally skilled pilot, able to handle the controls with an austere competence, although Saazbaum knew that the real test of ability would come during combat rather than casual flight.   
  
‘The controls aren’t too different from Sleipnirs,’ Inaho had said during one debriefing. Of course, his talent made the enormous difference, small, though Martian Kats were designed for the inexperienced with simplified controls, almost as if, in using Aldnoah, they became able to think for themselves.   
  
The boy manoeuvred Dioscuria into land them on the Brazilian coast. It was raining heavily when they landed. Accompanied by a sleepy Saazbaum, they untucked the tenting equipment from the packs and set up camp in a natural damp cave formation located partway up a cliff with an entrance large enough to admit the Kataphrakt.  
  
‘What’s this?’ Slaine had asked. He’d removed all the clothes in his pack and what was left was a careful package wrapped in plastic. The majority of the clothes had been Martian uniform. It was intentional, but Orlane’s contribution hadn’t been chosen based on her loyalty to Vers but rather the composition of the clothes. The fabric was insular enough to retain proper amounts of body heat to the degree that it was even sufficient to sustain the survival of people in deep space for short periods of time if they lacked protection, although they usually died from oxygen deprivation first.   
  
‘It’s holographic.’ Asseylum unpacked it for him. Attached to the fluid fabric was a control of some kind. ‘Watch.’ She picked up the control and pointed it at the cave entrance.   
  
‘Woah,’ Slaine said as the entrance vanished into blackness. Asseylum had made the cave appear shallower than normal. ‘That’s powerful. Well I guess our problems are sorted for now.’  
  
‘As long as we don’t attract too much attention to ourselves,’ Inaho said, perched atop Dioscuria’s foot, using his laptop. Thanks to the Doctor, the battery was now practically infinite. Stalactites glittered like pointed spears above him, fascinating the princess at first.   
  
‘Any news?’   
  
Inaho made a brief, disinterested glance upwards. He was still typing when Asseylum spoke, but he rotated the laptop around to show the article he was reading on the screen, closing a few holiday snapshots of the four of them with the Doctor holidaying on an alien beach in the process. ‘Nothing but bad news.’ he said, shaking his head, duty bound to systematically scroll through at a readable speed.   
  



	43. Capture

_‘As far as we can establish, the time machine is actually made of pure mathematics.’ The scientist said from where he had been perusing the data. From the belly of the machine swollen cables had been attached and outside in his landing castle the scientist stood on suspended platform, running tests and analyses._ – Retrieved from censored footage (2:40:00)  
  
The attack on the Terran base had yielded a rather unexpected but magnificent prize. He hadn’t expected the Time Lord simply to hand itself in to save the rest of the Terrans but it had. The alien caught looked human but in its chests two hearts beat. A servant had opened up a digital dossier containing collected intelligence on the alien.  
  
‘The young Edwardian one,’ the Viceroy read out loud dryly. There were quite a lot of photos on the page, one for each of the Time Lord’s faces. ‘Will the rest of this be a rather biased series of unimaginative descriptions based on clothing or are they all like this?’ he said testily, looking at the scanned pages with scribbled text.   
  
A servant shook his head, so he flipped another paged over with a touch gesture. The Doctor was watching him curiously. The fact that the Time Lord was manacled to the ceiling, didn’t seem to bother him.  Or perhaps he was just accustomed to being incarcerated which according to the very long recorded list of suspected included offenses ranging from the minor occurrence of jaywalking to trespassing and then murder.   
  
Another servant was rifling through the alien’s pockets whilst he hung suspended. An enormous assortment of objects were being removed. The Viceroy also eyed those dubiously, in between periods of reading. A yo-yo, a blank piece of paper folded into a white cube, a handful of coins from various sizes and shapes with symbols he couldn’t read were removed from them.   
  
And then a metal rod. It was handed to him, which he tested by pressing the prominent button. It caused the thing to light up and emit a buzz. ‘What’s this?’ He rolled his thumb, the metal was very smooth without any visible screws.   
  
‘Just a toy,’ the Doctor said innocently. Interesting. The English was flawless, despite Troyard’s insistence that this was an alien.   
      
‘Hmph,’ he said. Finally, when he was unable to contain himself, he asked, ‘How are you able to fit so many objects in your pockets?’ The first edition copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone – a book which he assumed was Terran, a packet of jellybabies and some tickets in a variety of languages joined the other objects on floor.    
  
‘They’re bigger on the inside.’ The Time Lord offered, but didn’t elaborate further.   
  
But the Viceroy could afford to be very patient. ‘My forces are searching for your companions at this very moment. Granted, they have eluded capture up to now, but with the power our Aldnoah granted weaponry possesses, they won’t survive for very long. I know that amongst your companions includes at least one person endowed with an Activation Factor. My immediate concern is the identity of this person and where they are.’  
The Doctor said nothing.  
  
‘I know that you can understand me. You look and behave outwardly like a human.’ He touched the file, still open and floating vertically in thin air on a thin dataslice. ‘If not for the noninvasive medical examination or the information dossier I would still be completely convinced that you were. I am a firm believer in willing co-operation and a humane approach. However, in the matter of the lives of our men and the matter of your time machine, I would resort to force if need be.’  
  
‘You speak of willing co-operation, but use threats.’ The Doctor said flatly. ‘I refuse your offer.’  
  
‘Very well.’ He talked to the guard at the door and another form was dragged in. ‘The files on your behaviour describe your indelible loyalty to your companions. Perhaps this situation will change your mind, however regrettable it is that it has come to thus.’   
  
Another form was dragged in. ‘Get your hands off me,’ Starling bristled from where she had been manacled. Her appearance, the Viceroy noted, caused the Doctor’s eyes to flash faintly in recognition.  
  
‘This woman was caught communicating vital Vers intelligence to the Terran forces. She will be hanged and executed however I would be more than willing to make a lenient exception for her given your co-operation.’   
  
There was a slow rage in the Time Lord’s voice brewing. ‘If you harm her, you will never gain access to my time machine on that, I swear.’ He vowed. Starling was looking at her feet, a sense of bitter defeat.   
  
But the Viceroy reached to his throat to fish out a long silver chain which he was wearing around his neck.   
  
The Doctor knew what was on the other end before he saw it. After all, the Saazbaum the Doctor had known, had needed to obtain resources from the TARDIS. He hadn’t possessed a key himself and the time machine had ben locked. Neither had any of the humans he interacted with, the Doctor knew. It had come from someone on Saazbaum’s Landing Castle at the time.  
  
Starling. They’d travel together, in the future. If they survived this.  
  
‘Oh? And would not this be a key to your TARDIS?’ Not “the” key but “a” key. The man was dangerously well informed. He had to remind himself, again, that this wasn’t the person he’d saved, the person who he’d taken his confidence and wanted to believe would do the right thing, in spite of the recent casual murder, he’d witnessed at the man’s hands. But it was so difficult.   
  
Although the Saazbaum he knew wasn’t often condescending, that could perhaps be be attributed to a sense of gratitude for being saved, though the more frustrated the man became the more he lapsed both into formality and obstinacy.  
  
The Doctor tended to chide him, seeing him as a child who had strayed off the path and who was in need of guidance. A moderating influence, to limit some of the man’s more destructive and bitter tendencies. But he saw now that perhaps he, who was in the wrong. Perhaps he was the one deluding himself.   
  
Because before him now, were two versions of Saazbaum were, to all intents and purposes, identical in appearance in speech, personality and appearance. After all, this wouldn’t have been the first time he’d thought a person was better than they were. He’d thought the same of his oldest friend and his worst enemy.  
  
The silver key, appearing so commonplace, spun on its chain.   
  



	44. Failure

_The likelihood of success decreases proportionally with each failure, not because of diminished ability but diminished confidence._ – Statistics and Relativism  
  
Knowing that it was an endeavour doomed to failure, the Viceroy still tried to convince the Doctor of the justness of his cause. The Time Lord listened, but was not swayed, perhaps as the result of the fact that the Terrans had presented a far better point of view.  
  
During that time, a Martian disgraced in his absence had attempted to convince him that she had somehow managed to encounter an alternate version of himself. He admonished her and claimed that she had been misled and that he was the same person that she had met.   
  
However, the deep gnawing sense of dread clung to him. It was likely that her experience was a fabrication and she’d only been visited by an imposter possessing an advanced factor, such as the type that Troyard had been able to endow Slaine with. He was unable to offset his own doubts with the knowledge that Slaine was here. There could have been another or countless others. How many users did Earth have now?  
  
Part of him was happy that the boy had survived in an alternate timeline but another part of him dreaded killing him again. Had the Doctor appear to mete out his divine punishment? The man brought with him the ghosts of his past sins, the ones he’d tried to forget and his people had been worshipped as gods: a civilisation so advanced it brought their partial mastery over Aldnoah to shame.   
  
Was he the one doing the leading or the one being led? Guiless. Savvy. Charming. The Doctor for all his eccentricity and child eyed wonder was a born politician.   
  
Above all, the Viceroy feared exposure. His entire endeavours, the entire war was founded on the lie of Asseylum’s death. He feared betrayal by his own composure, by his own words and actions. And now, somehow, those fears were becoming more literal.  
  
Once, he would have laughed at the concept of betrayal by his own hands, but now he could not discount the probability based on Schnei’s own words. He’d ridiculed her, of course, he had no great love for her actions which were extreme in some situations. But if it were the case that his alternate self was walking this Earth it would be of the paramount importance to keep the matter confidential until he could apprehend himself.   
  
Slaine, he’d always thought of as his right hand man. The boy fairly well, but would he be brazen enough to walk into the Landing Castle and simply be granted access to Dioscuria? Perhaps he was overthinking it. Occam’s Razor: the most simple formulation was often the most correct one. A simple postulate by a Terran philosopher, yet another frustrating example of Terran analytical superiority.   
  
He estimated a 50/50 chance of Deucalion or Dioscuria stolen in the event of Slaine, but if his alternate self was behind the theft he would only be able to operate Dioscuria. Moreover, there were other subtle clues as well. Temeraine had been contacted before he died. The encoding of the message was such that his best cryptographers hadn’t been able to make head or tail of the communication. A trait shared, in fact, by Starling’s communications, which had been able to penetrate the jamming during the solar flair.  
  
Should the traitor apprehended be a version of himself, he would need to be turned back to Vers or ended. There was no alternative, the Viceroy reasoned.   
  
In any other case, he could bring the perpetrator in and have him stripped of the Aldnoah privileges. But in a case such as this one, assuming that the Emperor believed him: why risk the loose cannon of removing the Activation Factor from one Saazbaum, when he could simply promote another Orbital Knight in his place? No, bringing his other self at the Emperor’s mercy would constitue forfeiting his own Aldnoah rights as well.   
  
In that case, he would have to deal with the problem himself, quietly and efficiently.   
  



	45. Survival

  
_Lord Besalier of the 23rd Clan was the closest person I had to a parental figure. I vividly recall his promotion to the head of the Emperor’s Exchequer in the December of 1996 in what would be a four year long term. He delivered the communique with an enthusiasm as if he was unaware of the tragedy that would befall his tenure._ – An Autobiography  
  
The heavy Amazonian rainfall eventually gave way to a soft pitter patter by midmorning and the cicadas were singing. Woken by the squawking of parrots in the canopies, breakfast was made, bat droppings were dodged and limbs made cramped and bruised from fleeing 7 days on end were stretched and examined.   
  
Still, though they had escaped by the skin of their teeth and lived with nerves stretched so thin they had almost snapped, they were luckier than Darzana and the rest. Shortly after they had left, Saazbaum’s alternate self, acting on some kind of scout tip off had sent in thousands of forces and Kataphrakts into the area.  
  
Inaho seemed the only one immune to the aura of gloom that was permeating the camp. Rations were running low, but he’d found a path earlier that morning when trekking up from camp by himself and intended to gather some foodstuffs later in the day.   
  
‘You three seem to be cheerful today,’ he apathetically told Slaine who was looking significantly less lively, drained and dirt stained.   
  
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ the boy replied simply. He unpacked the hand hygiene kit, scrubbed his fingers then tipped some dried fruit into his mouth and chewed.   
  
A quick glance around the camp told Inaho that he should have deferred telling the news as nobody had slept well. There were bags under Asseylum’s eyes as she yawned and rolled up her sleeping bag but she was still bright and curious enough to notice the bats which eyed them warily as they tented themselves in the wings and chittered angrily before falling back asleep.   
  
Saazbaum, on the other hand wasn’t talkative and looked like death warmed up. He didn’t even react when Slaine backpedalled with a surprised yelp after finding several centipedes nesting in his pack. There was also the collection of bruise shaped shadows underneath his eyes and after the emotional display last night. In fact, Inaho was even surprised he had made an appearance at the patch of stone universally designated as the eating area.    
  
It was worrisome. Though he carefully defied the trappings of showing emotion, Inaho, was anything except emotionless. He knew well the dangers of excess emotion.   
  
‘Survivor’s guilt,’ He said, calmly, at no one in particular, ‘Is a futile emotion. Regret helps no one. However,’ He placed a polished river stone as one would place a chess piece, ‘we can move first to ensure that this kind of situation doesn’t happen again. We’re running low on rations so I need volunteers to replenish them.’  
  
Slaine looked momentarily surprised that the boy had switched the topic to something mundane. But long Inaho was doling out various chores and with their hands busier their minds, more importantly, became too occupied to dwell on the unknown fate of Darzana’s contingent.   
  



	46. Meeting

_He was a poor candidate with little grasp of finances despite his wealth. Fortunes made had a habit of vanishing overnight. His reputation was never spotless but was quickly tarnished by incidents of habitual gambling and lavish spending and worsened by his reputation for a quick temper and arrogant contempt for the flattery of the Vers court._ – An Autobiography  
  
Inaho stayed behind while Saazbaum, Slaine and Asseylum trekked to the nearest town to collect supplies. It was supposed to be a quarter day’s hike away, but a few mishaps ensured it was almost midday by the time they arrived.   
  
The first problem was the cliff itself. The cave had proved easy to enter by Dioscuria’s flight capabilities but difficult to exit on foot. The long narrow ledge on the outside of the cave was made dangerously slick with wet mud and shimmying across proved difficult to cross in bulky waterproof boots and so they were forced to make their way across slowly in single file. At one point, Slaine almost plunged over the edge at one point but Asseylum and Saazbaum managed to pull him back in time, though they narrowly avoided joining him in a vertical free fall several kilometres down.   
  
The second problem presented itself at the wet river crossing. Last night’s rain had made the river creep up the banks and overtake what had used to be dry land.   
  
Saazbaum had been coaxed out of the morning’s silence by a persistent Asseylum but his mood was downright irritable thanks to the mosquitoes who had found Orbital Knight to be a delicacy worth ignoring the insect repellent for. Nevertheless, he rolled up the legs of his pants and tested the water. It was a torrent which would have undoubtedly caused him to lose his balance if he attempted to take experimental steps so he gingerly retracted his foot and wisely retreated back to dry land.  
  
‘We’ll just have to make a crossing at another point,’ Slaine had said, but they managed to miss the bridge altogether thanks to a reading failure when Asseylum was distracted by an unseen wounded animal crashing in the undergrowth. By the time they ran to catch up with her they were well and truly lost, although they did manage to locate the hoofprints of a deer.  
  
After a while spent wandering forwards and backwards consulting the map worn out by the constant folding, replacing and shuffling they managed to locate a highway which in turn lead them to populated areas and in turn lead them to a silvery grey complex guarded with rusted barbed wire on the edge of the town, although Slaine was suspecting that the town was more of a small city than a town at that point.  
  
An immigration’s clerk greeted them on their way in. The woman had steel grey hair and bangs and a mole on one chin and she measured between Slaine and Saazbaum in height, although Slaine’s newly activated hologram did make him appear a little smaller and younger than normal. They were all unrecognisable, Asseylum looked older with a smattering of freckles and wider lips and Saazbaum was less willowy with thicker fingers and increased girth, although all of the holograms shared brown hair and light hazel eyes to give the illusion of familial resemblance.  
  
 The reception was a little casual despite the serious atmosphere. ‘Sorry, sir, routine inspection. Would you happen to have an identification papers or…?’  
  
‘None, I’m afraid my children and I lost them when fleeing from the Martian forces. We’re just looking to buy some food and some equipment.’ Saazbaum lied, his voice lent a slightly nasal tone by the hologram. He gently pulled Slaine and Asseylum in to contribute to the illusion, rubbing their shoulders in gentle circles, causing the princess to yawn briefly and blink slowly.   
  
‘Well I suppose that’s understandable.’ She paused and her eyes clouded a little. ‘Although we’ve had a few patrols around here in the past they tend to keep away from this region. The destruction is mostly confined to the Northern parts of Brazil.’  
  
‘That’s strange. All things considered, you’d think that the Orbital Knights would ignore conventional land and sea borders.’ Asseylum said, adopting a bemused tone. And they hadn’t seen any landing castles by air as they arrived either.   
  
‘Well whatever the cause of it, we’re grateful.’ The woman pulled out a small blue plastic tray. ‘Weapons in here, please. We don’t allow them inside the town but you can pick them up when you leave.’  
  
Saazbaum frowned imperceptibly. Slaine still had a handgun in his belt which he put in the tray with Saazbaum’s glock with his hologram granted small hands. The woman didn’t bat an eyelash at a young child carrying firearms, clearly it had become a commonplace occurrence.  
  
They were led past the metal detector and despite Saazbaum’s reservations it wasn’t triggered by their holographic devices. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when they were stopped at the second gate. A female doctor with shoulder length hair tied back with a plastic band was carrying hypodermics and alcohol swabs on a black tray on a trolley which rattled as she rolled it down the carpeted hallway. It was plush and a very new building.   
  
‘I think Leticia forgot to walk you through the genetic test. It’s a procedure to eliminate the chance that Martian spies are entering our municipality.’ She was saying, holding up a syringe. ‘We do have to get your proper approval, however. There are basically two very simple procedures. The first test checks for the presence of an Activation Factor which is something that only Martian nobles have. ’  
  
‘Martian nobles?’ It came out slightly higher in pitch than Asseylum had intended. Saazbaum’s hand on her shoulder had stiffened. ‘I mean,’ she said in a slightly calmer voice, ‘Aren’t they the ones who are piloting the Kataphrakts? There’s hardly a reason to come down here and enter town, is there?’ She added in a nervousness which she hoped the woman would interpret as fear that they would be attacked and not fear of exposure.  
  
They were saved a response by the appearance of a thin elderly man with wispy white hair. He wore a double breasted charcoal grey jacket of a military cut. At the front, it was informally divided into a v shape exposing the white shirt underneath, the exposed parts at the neck and the sleeves ruffled. His pants were a slightly darker shade of grey.   
  
‘Ah Dr Santos, I think you’re frightening the young woman.’ the man said. ‘We didn’t test the other forty or something refugees, is there any particular reason why this lot should be any different? After all’, and at this he stretched his arms and cane out placatingly, ‘she’s probably witnessed enough trauma to last her a life time.’  
  
‘I’ll be in my office if you need me, Seb.’ A brief curl of disapproval graced her lips before she retreated.   
  
He had bleary blue brown eyes but he inspected her eyes with eyes sharper than cut glass and Asseylum felt a small nervous shiver pass through her. She bit her lip. But he didn’t know who they were, did he? Surely he couldn’t see through the holograms.  
  
Because the man in front of her with the relaxed confidence, walking amongst the Terrans like he belonged was one of the 37 Counts, Besalier. Judging by the fact that Saazbaum’s grip had become vicelike to the point of inflicting pain, he recognised him too.  She dared not check on Slaine’s expression.  
  
‘I don’t believe we have been introduced,’ the Orbital Knight said with a benevolent smile. ‘I am Lord Mayor Sebastian of this small municipality, as since the recent Martian incursions the term municipality has become synonymous with town or city. I have taken it upon myself to enforce peace, prosperity and security for all our residents… ’  
  



	47. Tour

_And yet, one might ask that if Besalier was so incompetent, why did the Emperor’s own treasury never operate at a loss? Indeed, he never seemed interested in raising the taxation of commoners although many opportunities arose in 1997 following the lowered agricultural output. For a corrupt man, his clothes were relatively poor in quality though he paid particular attention to mine and the appearance of wealth only maintained by borrowing the mansions of others whilst his own was small and squalid as if he considered renovation to be a frivolous waste of dime._ – An Autobiography  
  
Besalier walked them all the way, playing the role of tour guide as well as he played the part of the mayor and the Terran. He made small talk, introducing some of the buildings built more of the well-known architects. Towards the Town Hall which sat in the centre of the townstead, which was actually more of a city given the number of people and the buildings they’d passed, the tiles of the paved road pointed sloped inwards in a gentle incline, forming a kind of walkway up to the building.   
  
An enormous statue of a swan sat in the fountain. Poised mid-flight its wings fanned out in the semblance of flight, its feet still embedded in the ebony carved in the shape of water ripples. From its beak sprayed a spout of water which caught the light like crystal in the midday sun and ended in a rainbow mist. The basin of the fountain was made of a weathered bronze although it still retained the gilt edge.  
  
It caught her breath. A few real ducks sat in the pond, paddling inquisitively and honking.   
  
‘One of Landowski’s lesser known works,’ he said, nodding in acknowledgement. ‘Unfortunately, it’s a partial reconstruction.’  
  
‘That’s a shame.’  
  
‘It often is a shame when works of art such as these are destroyed in war. Things become almost more utilitarian and more pragmatic, we lose a sense of ourselves and the culture which defines us.’   
  
A quick glance told her that Saazbaum hadn’t lost his tense posture and in a similar vein Slaine was still jumpy although he obediently tailed them.   
  
When they walked into the Town Hall, Besalier closed the heavy door with a loud grating thunder. Asseylum felt rather than knew that the hologram had dissipated the instant they had walked in. The carpets were as plush as the ones in the Customs building, cream in colour and spotless. Some of the tables had been moved to sit on rugs with red intricate designs. Above them, lit in subdued lights was a baroque ceiling painting depicting classical religious iconography.   
  
‘This place is surrounded by an EM field. It has the added effect of dissipating electronic devices such as your holographic devices. Here, we can talk in private.’  
  
There was the sharp sound of a gun being cocked.   
  
‘Saazbaum!’ Asseylum called sharply. The Count ignored her, the weapon he’d somehow managed to smuggle past the Customs officials still trained on Besalier’s head.  
  
‘Well, my dear boy,’ he chuckled, ‘am I surprised? The dead Princess and the dead Troyard child. By the way, Viceroy, I am surprised that you came here in person just to see me. Your duplicate almost had me fooled.’ Besalier casually pulled up a chair, reclined back, threading his fingers together, but Asseylum noticed that his eyes never left Saazbaum’s the entire time.  
  
‘We were temporarily waylaid.’ Saazbaum said smoothly, ‘My men will be here soon, so I’d kindly advise you to call off your snipers.’  
  
Besalier sat up and slowly clapped his hands, so that he allowed one to descended to the other vertically in a mocking fashion. ‘I think not, I call your bluff.’  
  
A guard of four Martians dressed in navy and red fluidly assembled around him in an inverted wedge as he stood, raising an eyebrow now that he properly took in Saazbaum’s appearance. The red uniform which was spotless this morning was covered in Amazonian mud. In fact, it was rubbing off on the carpet. ‘I see, it must have been quite the hike. It appears to me that you must have absorbed half the mud in the rainforest.’ The tone was dry. ‘Running from your own forces must have taken quite some stamina.’  
  
‘The appearance does not necessarily have the substance, I believe you’d find, Count Besalier.’ He countered swiftly.   
  
The statement finally caused the Orbital Knight to drop the façade in an instant. ‘Pleasant as it has been to verbally spar with you, let me dictate the following to you. I know that there are two of you.’  
  
 He raised a hand to forestall a hypothetical objection. ‘Let me clarify, two identical copies of you, due to time travel, cloning or some finagling. I don’t care about the technical details. With the traitor, Slaine and the dead Prinecss I would surely obtain quite the favour from the emperor.  “Out of the fire and into the frying pan”, I believe, is the Terran turn of phrase. Consider this ultimatum: offer me something better or suffer wretchedly at the hands of your enemies.’  
  
The princess raised her chin. ‘You swore loyalty to the Vers empire when you received your title, Besalier. And as the principle heir to that throne here on Earth, you owe your loyalty to me. You have no right to threaten my retainers and I will see you punished for this insubordination.’  
  
‘And you are nothing more than a silly, sheltered and idiot girl who speaks out of turn. If you are foolish enough to trust Saazbaum’s silver tongue, perhaps I ought to leave you to your fate.’ He clucked his tongue.   
  
There was a sharp look in Slaine’s eyes, amongst his display of dull obedience. He placed one hand diagonally across his heart, tilting downwards from his waist as he said, ‘Milord, you are perfectly correct. I may be a traitor, but unlike you I wouldn’t use the Princess’ death as an excuse to wage war against the Earth. Though I am nothing more than a dog, you are below me in discipline. You are a child, throwing a tantrum, destroying for destruction’s sake!’  
  
‘Slaine-,’ Saazbaum began cautiously.  
  
Slaine turned around, and spoke: ‘Know when to keep your mouth closed and to do as you as you are told.’ He said with cold fury. ‘Your behaviour is hardly any better than his behaviour. Don’t make me regret trusting you.’ To his utter surprise, the man closed his jaw with a snap, immediately silenced.   
  
‘Excellent.’ Besalier said, with a trace of sleepiness from his corner.   
  
‘What?’  
  
‘You are excellent at speaking down at your betters and completely misjudging the situation. Oh, don’t look at me like that, child. I was the one who threw those Kataphrakts off your scent. I’m glad that I did, so that I might have your company and entertainment for a while longer. Truce?’  
  
Slaine didn’t know how to respond. He looked at the man’s extended hand as if it was a viper.   
  
‘Did you believe that those Kataphrakts spontaneously lost their trail? Or were you taken in by an apparently functional human settlement rather than another obliterated country?’  
  
‘Milord, you seem to have forgotten that you still seized power and are still threatening us.’  
  
‘Back to subservience already?’ Besalier frowned. ‘Oh come on boy, use those eyes of yours. I was voted in democratically. I was inducted as a candidate in this political system. My control is based on the desires of the majority and not coercion, or are you going to claim I rigged the election as well? You may claim that I responded with a threat, but is your friend the Viceroy not pointing a gun at my head?’   
  
‘Count Saazbaum, as a sign of our peaceable intentions please put the gun down.’ This time he obeyed the Princess’ order and dropped the weapon to the floor. After a moment of silent and dramatic grandstanding which the he didn’t seem to be able to resist, Besalier languidly made a ‘c’ with a thumb and forefinger and his people followed suit.   
  



	48. Instinct

_A favourite tactic of Vers military tactic involved kinetic bombardment. Satellites would drop metal poles with fins. Accelerated by gravity and initially propelled by railguns, these would quickly hit orbital velocity. At almost 11,300 km/hr, the remote controlled projectiles were practical unstoppable pillars of death._ – Vers Military Tactics pt. 1   
  
‘You better go away.’ The Doctor told the tabby. ‘Run away from this place. Escape as far away from here as possible although I can’t.’ Wolsey simply ignored him and walked up to one of side of one of his legs and began rubbing up at him with one furry face. Felines could be as stubborn as a human. Although he could reason with them, they often chose to ignore him.   
  
Wolsey, in particular, seemed to have acquired some of his previous owner’s stubborn traits and preferred to walk, like Miss Bernice Summerfield, to swan into danger without so much of a plan.      
  
The Time Lord sighed from where he’d been chained to the ceiling in the landing castle. It would have made almost a nice cell if not for the electroshock torture. Although, he supposed, it was better than other cells he’d been recently trapped in. One less than fond memory involved a terrorist cell and shock batons. Poor Badar had not ended up so lucky. Perhaps if his fellow prisoner was still alive he could have told him more stories.   
  
Unfortunately for him, there seemed to be no quick exit from the landing castle. The manacles had been attached securely by people with a degree of competence, not enough to hurt, but there was no visible weak point in the design, though his good friend Houdini would have probably found a way. He had strained them, searching futilely for a flaw which he couldn’t find and he was watched too closely from cameras to even have the opportunity to escape.  
  
There was, however, a blindspot from the cameras where Viceroy Saazbaum normally stood. Unfortunately, it was too far away from him to reach and wouldn’t have been able to use it unless he had managed to escape.   
  
Wolsey was coughing, near his feet. The cat was making retching and hacking noises.   
  
‘What did I tell you about ingesting hair,’ the Doctor sighed. But then the cat spit had managed to spit something very long at his feet. The metal rod rolled to his feet, wet with saliva. Wolsey yowled, showing sharp triangular fangs and as if pleased, flicked his tail.  
  
‘I can’t pick that up,’ The Doctor told Wolsey, tersely. The cat, undeterred, picked the screwdriver up, whisking it away with his teeth and jumped onto a table which the Viceroy had forgot to remove.  It still contained a glass of red wine which the Martian had been drinking. Wolsey sniffed the glass eagerly, whiskers touching the rim.   
  
‘Don’t tell me you’ve picked up Benny’s alcohol habit too.’ the Time Lord groaned but Wolsey was ignoring the glass and now was whisking his tail in the air. The cat crouched and leapt, managing to get its claws on the Doctor’s shoulders where it climbed to his head like a beanie, before scrambling up his right arm.   
  
‘Wolsey,’ The Doctor said, stretching out one hand, unable to believe his luck. The cat blinked and dropped the screwdriver into his palm and leapt back to the ground, purring deeply. It took some manoeuvring and painful positioning, but the Doctor managed to score the right frequency, freeing first one wrist and then the second.  
  
‘Right,’ the Doctor said, scooping up Wolsey with one arm and the sonic screwdriver with the other, ‘Where were we?’   
  
An escape route appeared first on the agenda, though a disguise was also important if he didn’t want to wonder around practically stark naked.   
  



	49. Rescue

_We would have inevitably died, had Kazuika not formulated an effective strategy. Codenamed ODIN, Sleipnir’s finest strategic mind brought a series of self-formulated streamlined portable two piece warheads. The first section would be sneaked aboard the satellites and once the second was brought within the required range the device would be detonated, obliterating the weapon._ – Vers Military Tactics pt. 1  
   
The Doctor counted the cells as he passed, A-1, A-2… A-3 was empty. Each one in the dull steel blue corridor appeared empty. ‘Oh Liv, Liv I hope they haven’t hurt you.’ He mumbled, then doubled back to the corridor to recheck. If any soldiers were watching him, they’d have turned in time to notice that his coat tails had whipped around into the corner.  
  
Only to bump straight into her with an armful of cat. Wolsey turned slightly slower than the Doctor’s arm movements, swivelling his head like a proud Egyptian idol to compensate. ‘Doctor, I was just about to break you out of your prison cell. And is that a cat?’  
  
The Doctor beamed like a proud parent. The torture had left no visible marks though his eyes were a little blood shot and he seemed a little tired. ‘Wolsey, meet Liv. He brought me my sonic screwdriver, I’m guessing that our friend the Viceroy left the TARDIS doors open for a bit too long.’ The tabby reached out one tentative paw to examine her face. ‘Are you injured?’ He asked with concern.   
  
She shook her head. ‘Seems like it was just you who were tortured. Maybe the Viceroy just wasn’t interested in what I had to say.’ They were taking off at a fast place and she seemed to know where she was going. ‘It makes a welcome change from the Daleks. Doctor?’  
  
‘Oh, hmm?’ Nobody had intercepted them yet but there were a few glances turned in their direction.  
  
‘None of this has happened for you yet, right? Kaldor, Nixyce, Ramosa…’  
  
‘Not really.’ The Doctor flashed a guilty look over Wolsey’s shoulder. ‘I’m sure we’ll fit plenty of it into the future. Besides,’ he added, flustered, ‘What’s life without a bit of adventure?’  
  
‘It’s fine, Narvin warned you might… well … not have experienced it yet. He’s one of your people. Celestial Intervention Agency. Not a bad character, however.’  
   
The Doctor’s expression darkened. ‘Interfering hypocrites,’ he muttered but added nothing further.  They came up to an elevator but it didn’t recognise them so the door didn’t open. He fumbled for his sonic screwdriver to open it. ‘On that note, how did you escape?’  
  
‘I managed to slip out when one of the guard’s back was turned.’ She grinned. The Doctor grinned back and gave her a thumbs up.   
  
‘I helped facilitate that, you know. Not that I expect gratitude from fugitives.’ Krachkoff offered wryly walking out of the shadows which his charcoal uniform, he blended into the shadows. He looked a bit reluctant about the whole affair. ‘Let me help you with that.’ The silver doors pinged open in response to him and they stepped into the modern elevator. It didn’t seem to have screws or other furnishings which Liv had grown accustomed to on Earth. It was smooth and featureless.    
  
‘So have you come to help us or arrest us?’ The Doctor asked as the numbers counted down. They descended floors at a rather rapid pace.  
  
‘Since the Countess has already offered you help on one occasion, I believe that she would offer you assistance a second time. You were well acquainted with the other Saazbaum, correct.’  
  
‘Yes,’ the Doctor said, still a little wary, although they had bumped heads a few times, metaphysically of course, via the Temporal Echo Chamber. Clearly, he had decided to trust the man since he said, ‘I crashed here trying to land on another timeline. It’s odd, actually, how similar these two universes are. I think the waves in space-time distortions interfered with my navigation system.’  
  
‘It’s like what happened at Tanegashima when the moon was destroyed,’ Krachkoff said. ‘Or at least that’s what the Viceroy used to say.’  
  
‘And you, Liv? Were you sent by the Time Lords here to investigate the breach?’ The Doctor asked.  
  
‘I didn’t come to investigate so much as to escape.’ She folded her arms. ‘But yes, as a triple agent for Vers, the CIA and Earth I was in the perfect position to investigate certain unusual incidents.’  
  
‘You know what else is odd,’ Krachkoff said, finally. ‘The fact that this version of Viceroy Saazbaum can’t get into your TARDIS. I watched the other one enter without any problems, but my one can walk through a doorway but the instant he walks through a doorway he appears right back at the entrance. This wouldn’t happen to be some trickery on your part, would it?’  
  
The Doctor looked a little troubled but they all jumped when the elevator slowed down a few levels before their exit. ‘Someone’s coming in,’ he said doubtfully. But there wasn’t anywhere to hide. When Krachkoff pulled out a gun and motioned them to stand behind him, he frowned a little in disapproval but didn’t comment.  
  
The door slid open to admit a surprised Orlane who stepped in ‘You wouldn’t happen to be intending to shoot me would you?’  She asked Krachkoff whose hand holding the gun dropped to his side.  
  
‘Of course not,’ he said, ‘I can explain. This is ah… a routine…’ He trailed lamely.  
  
‘Prison break,’ she prompted, then upon seeing his expression sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘It’s fine, Krachkoff, you mustn’t take everything so seriously. It seems we all had the same idea of helping the Doctor escape. Sorry about the less than stellar welcome, by the way,’  
  
The Doctor perked up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. ‘Nah, I completely understand.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Possibly the first time I was aided by the instigators, though. On second thought, maybeee the second or third time.’ He coughed. ‘It might have also been the sixth time, I’m not sure-’ He grinned, a little disarmingly.  
  
‘Doctor, rambling again?’ Orlane said, glancing at him briefly.  
  
‘Only just.’ he said amiably. At the last stop, they got out, only to walk into a bunch of uniformed guards and heading the forces was a Viceroy. He lifted up his chin, disapprovingly. ‘I see that my security arrangements were insufficient.’  
  
‘I hope I haven’t worn out my welcome,’ the Doctor said, backing into the elevator. The expression on the Martian’s face told him he had, especially when those cold eyes sighted Krachkoff and Orlane behind him.   
  
The doors of the elevator closed like two symmetrical blades of a guillotine.   
  



	50. Fallout

_Though the strategies of both sides were effective in the campaign, the resultant orbiting space junk sterilised the possibility of future space travel beyond either Earth or Mars. We are effectively prisoners of our own brilliance_ – Vers Military Tactics pt. 1  
  
‘Orlane, please tell me that you didn’t help the prisoner escape of your own volition.’ He stressed the last syllable. He did not use a pleading tone, he was far too proud for that emotion. Instead, he walled up the pain of being betrayed by the only two people he trusted.   
  
Nothing changed the fact that he was, at this early hour, drinking. He clutched the wineglass hard, his knuckles were white.   
  
‘And would it change anything if I had?’ She spoke very calmly from where she was sitting, her legs were crossed, face cold. She wasn’t drinking, though a glass of water was beside her. Beside his superior, Krachkoff sat, looking at the floor as if the bright white was the most interesting piece of artwork he’d ever looked at. He was trying to make himself as small as possible, fear radiating off him. ‘Been coerced?’  
  
He looked at her, through her as if she wasn’t present but seemed to regain some spirit in his countenance. ‘If that were the case, heaven and hell itself would not be able to stop my retribution in the name of my beloved.’ He uncurled the other fingers of his left hand, they dipped until his hand opened.   
  
There was silence.  
  
‘Just give me the word. Orlane.’  
  
‘Funny how you automatically assume that I was coerced into it.’ She said. ‘Funny how you, the person who was coercing the Doctor, was the one who assumed that, on some level he deserved it.’   
  
‘You could have told me.’ He said with a cool detachment, this time careful to avoid looking at her face. ‘Secrets between us-‘  
  
‘Are not good for your reputation? Is that all you care about? Didn’t I always tell you, on precisely five separate occasions, that torture, on any ground was completely unwarranted? Sometimes, secrets exist for a reason. I decided to take the matter into my own hands.’  
  
‘Heavens, Orlane.’ He was the first person to stand up, raising his voice. ‘The Emperor ordered me to find the person responsible for the Terran insurrection. We had achieved peace and prosperity and now you endanger all that we worked for together to aid an alien terrorist,’ he jabbed one rigid finger at the door.  
  
‘The Doctor is not a terrorist,’ she told him with sheer determination.   
  
‘You never told me how you knew that.’ His voice was quietly shattered. ‘Am I not even important enough for that?’ There was a flurry of movement as he took a few paces then walked up to her and kneeled in front of her, in the picture of humility. ‘No matter what happened, I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to be your enemy. Whatever the Doctor has said to turn you to his side –‘  
  
‘They’re lies?’ She questioned then laughed painfully. ‘Who are you to dictate to me what is the truth and what is a lie?’  
  
‘And yet you won’t even tell me how you know that.’ His voice was quietly shattered. ‘Orlane, I don’t want to fight you, no matter what has happened. I don’t want to be your enemy. Whatever the Doctor has said to turn you to his side –‘  
  
‘Oh please. I know how it is. It is always somebody else’s fault, isn’t it?’ She balled her fists. ‘You never learned that some things are inexcusable, Saazbaum. Forget about your plotting for just five minutes and look at what’s happening to you. To us. People aren’t simply pawns to be used when you can manipulate them and discard when they won’t obey. Murdering the Princess, murdering Slaine, the blood of so many people are on our hands. Tell me, where do you draw the line, or will we fall like this forever, struggling to outdo each other in the depth of our wrongs?’  
  
He covered his eyes with the tips of his fingers. ‘The Doctor has a time machine.’  
  
‘And,’ Orlane said just as quietly. ‘Assuming that you obtained the Doctor’s co-operation, are you going to prevent your enemies existing in the first place? Go back in time and erase them from existence? Instil yourself as ruler of the universe?’  
  
‘Merely nothing more than a controlled time experiment. You use the most extreme example.’ He ground out.   
  
‘We are children, playing with technologies we can barely understand.’ She said, just audible. ‘First Aldnoah and now this. We use dangerous weapons without understanding it. We’ve already destroyed the moon and ruined our own world and laid waste to another. How could anybody in the whole universe conceive us worthy of time travel?’  
  
But his eyes were open and bright with passion. ‘Is possessing plenty, crops and food without invading the Earth, really so bad?’  
  
‘Imagine what it would have been like if you interfered so that the royals never existed, imagine how many people would have never been born. How would a world like that be any better than this one? What gives you that right to play God?’  
  
He paused. ‘My place is alongside Vers. I do what is best for our people.’  
  
‘No, Saazbaum. Your place is here, with me, doing what is right for the universe of which we are only a part.’  
  
‘We don’t need the Doctor.’ He said at last, after a lot of consideration. ‘It was late, but Troyard informs me that he has made a breakthrough in examining the TARDIS. We might not be able to operate the machine and lack the rights for it, but we would be able to mirror its capacity for time travel using Aldnoah.’  
  
She had no words. The concept of meddling in time to change history was horrifying. Unbelievable. Did he not realise that there are more things at stake here than simple conquest?  
  
‘Orlane… Orlane, please say something.’ He held out his hand again.   
  
She slapped it away. He looked stunned, hurt and rejection flashing through his eyes like a raging ocean. But still, she pressed on. ‘There are some things that can’t be forgiven.’ She said. ‘This is one of them. You and me, it’s over. Once, I fell in love with you, but that man is no longer there.’  
  
She walked out and slammed the door behind her before he could say the excuses or see the tears.   
  



	51. Trap

_One may ask if his true intentions were as simple as the explanation offered by corruption. His term was marred by regular, almost scheduled absences. He claimed sick leave but more than one occasion I perceived him in the company of commoners._ – An Autobiography  
  
Inaho had been patiently watching the Martian out of his pair of binoculars from his vantage point for several hours. Technical readouts flashed around the circumference of the 25th century lenses. It was also equipped with the facility for lip-reading, although he had to take regular breaks because it hurt his eyes to read the rapidly flashing text as the operating system transcribed and reselected best guessed words from both the lip movements and the context of the sentence.   
  
Milord Besalier, Inaho read, there is no news of the fourth accomplice, the boy. I have not located Dioscuria either, I believe that Saazbaum has concealed its hiding place well.   
  
There was a reply from the communicator but there was insufficient visual input to formulate a transcript. The Martian was moving again, which was what Inaho had been relying on.    
  
He put the binoculars down. Then, slowly leaning back into the dark grey green wall. To an onlooker, he was indistinguishable from the moss and the underlying stone, the hologram precisely replicated the appearance of the wall itself. He drew one hand into his pocket. It was the remote control for a hobby plane.   
  
The four wheeled contraption’s nose began to spin and the fragile thing began to gain speed along the narrow ledge before taking off with a whizz. He’d preferred not to rely on techniques with such a low accuracy, but Inaho had already dug fairly deep traps and filled them with sharpened stakes around the camp on his expeditions outside.  He was very familiar with the technique and it had often proved useful in trapping animals... and humans.   
  
The plane nosedived towards the Martian. She did not panic but lifted a rifle and shot it, causing the little vehicle to drop, but not before it snagged one of the tripwires, causing her to be snarled and dragged back by something underneath the dirt. She realised too late what was happening and only managed to drag her fingernails into the loamy soil before she was dragged under, flailing and cursing when the sharp objects underneath penetrated her uniform.   
  
The boy lowered the remote control and looked at the sky. It was getting late and nobody had returned so he descended slowly and carefully to where the woman was struggling.  
  
‘I wouldn’t move so much, if I was you.’ He crouched over the edge. Each stake was positioned in a square grid in the circular grid, the distance between each stake had been calculated so that it wasn’t great enough to let her roll on her side and lie against the dirt without intervening sharp objects.   
  
She swore again. Lying awkwardly on her back, a few stakes had found their mark as she’d fell down and there was a small amount of blood on the back of her exposed neck.  ‘So you are the Terran cur I was sent out here to find. And I found a particularly nasty one laying traps.’  
  
The gun in Inaho’s hand clicked. He’d removed the safety. He looked over the edge blankly. ‘I am interested in your message. I assume you have one from your employer?’  
  
She rolled her eyes but complied. ‘I, Count Besalier do courteously invite Inaho Kaizuka to join his friends for dinner at my place. In answer to your question, Slaine, Princess Asseylum and the dear Viceroy are safe for now but are not guaranteed their heads if you dally.’  
  
The gun went more prominently to her head.  
  
‘Hopefully,’ she continued, ‘You haven’t shot my servant already as she has directions to take you directly to my whereabouts and I am lead to believe that you see the merits of reason and logic.’  
  
‘Very well,’ Inaho said. ‘Hold out your arms.’  
  



	52. Command

_Authority, as I have demonstrated to you, is simply a matter of perception_. – On Leadership  
  
When Asseylum had finally finished speaking, her throat was hoarse so she reached other to drink the preferred glass of water to ease her parched throat. They were sitting in a café owned by one of Count Besalier’s Terran friends. The floor was composed of polished wooden planks and the above them a four bladed fan swung in lazy loops to ward off the afternoon’s humidity   
  
Count Besalier nodded approvingly. ‘Perhaps my earlier assessment of you was incorrect. You make valid points, your Highness,’ and on this term, the Slaine wrinkled one brow causing him to internally chuckle at the boy’s momentary confusion, ‘I agree to this joining of our forces. However, I will be the one commanding them.’  
  
‘As the heir princess to the Vers throne I will be the one with that authority.’  
  
‘You have limited military experience,’ he pointed out. ‘Your subordinates currently number three people. I command at least three thousand and the number is not limited to my own forces.’   
  
‘Then I will delegate the matter to the fourth member of my party. He is a veteran of anti-Kataphrakt operations.’   
  
Inaho chose that moment to walk in. He seemed to take the meeting in his stride showing not the least surprised at the selected delegation assembled around the table. It was a cozy setting, a few sandwiches sat on china plates shared around the table. Their host’s elbows were on the table.  
  
‘Where is my servant?’ Count Besalier demanded.   
  
‘Unconscious and outside,’ Inaho reported briefly. ‘A conflict is best dealt with on as few fronts as possible, to limit the potential for collateral damage.’ And he was still holding the gun.   
  
The Orbital Knight gestured once and two of his subordinates left through the door.  
  
‘Inaho.’ But the boy, ignoring Saazbaum and walked up to Besalier and pushed the gun into the man’s forehead. The old man didn’t even flinch, smiling merely as it was the best joke of the century, but Saazbaum jerked out of his seat as if he had been shaken.   
  
But no one fired back, and after a while, the boy simply walked back, making a circuit around the table and sat in Saazbaum’s place next to Asseylum.   
  
‘So we were never in any real danger.’ Inaho concluded. ‘Despite your ultimatum, Count Besalier. Why the threat?’  
  
‘Could you blame an old man for wanting the matter to be resolved as quickly as possible?’ The Orbital Knight shrugged. ‘I cannot spare the patience or the time in a war. Not even for family or for friends. Although, I see that you are taken after my-‘  
  
Saazbaum’s eyes were burning. He wore the most calculating smile, when he spoke ‘Your Highness, as you were saying?’ The tone was so genteel and refined that only a person who knew him would have picked up on the fistful of irritation that lay underneath the deflection.  
  
True to form, Princess Asseylum was courteous, apologetic and wasn’t sidetracked, all at once. She sat up, prim and proper. ‘Apologies, for the interruption Count Besalier, but as I was saying, I will appoint Inaho as the commander of this united operation between your forces and mine. However, as Inaho is not familiar with commanding Kataphrakt forces directly, I will delegate the matter to Saazbaum.’  
  
It caused Count Besalier to laugh uproariously, his thin frame quaking.   
  
Saazbaum massaged his eyes with the tips of his fingers in slow circles. ‘I haven’t the patience to deal with your impertinence, old man. If you want me, I shall be outside.’  
  
‘Viceroy. Come back.’ When that didn’t yield a response, he called, ‘Saazbaum?’ But it was futile.  
  
‘You two don’t get along well do you?’ Inaho observed. ‘That’s why the two of you became estranged.’  
  
The moment lapsed into silence. Slaine looked again at the Orbital Knight’s face, scrutinising it for family resemblance, but there was none, but he decided not to pry for an answer. After a moment, it offered itself.  
  
‘I was adopted.’ A voice said from the doorway.   
  
Besalier merely glanced sideways, hands folded neatly into his lap. ‘I’d rather thought you’d left.’  
  
‘Only a coward leaves.’ The voice had an edge. Raw. This time, when Saazbaum selected a seat, he took the place next to Slaine. ‘At least my other self left you alone.’  
  
‘One doesn’t fire on members of one’s own family.’ Besalier said and his voice was weary. ‘Not by choice. Not unless you’re forced to. And I’m as neutral as Switzerland. I sent a decoy of Dioscuria off and persuaded him that I wasn’t harbouring you. He believed me. ’  
  
‘But if you ally with us you will be firing on your son. The real one.’  
  
‘Ah, but you already came to me for help, didn’t you? I am a dying man. We all make compromises and for me, one son is better than none. I can give you armaments, and my missiles to replace the ones you’ve used up in Dioscuria. My people also farm food so you and the Terrans won’t starve for the time being. I also secreted Colonel Magbaredge and her company away but they’ve been given new identities for security reasons. ’  
  
Asseylum was saying, ‘That is an awful thing to say. Surely there is an alternative to killing him.’  
  
‘Princess, this is an awful war. And at one point we are all compelled to take sides.’  
  



	53. Senate

_Without followers, a leader is effectively nobody. Does a leader understand how to oil, clean and fire a gun? Does a leader concern themselves with digging the trenches or flying a sky carrier or feeding their troops? Never._ – On Leadership  
  
‘Lord Mayor Sebastian, what is the meaning of this,’ Brazilian senator Felipe spluttered. He was a darkskinned man with a hawklike nose and brown hair. ‘Is this an elaborate prank?’ The Mayor had called an emergency convocation and somehow managed to arrive in the capital within minutes.   
  
Right in the dead of midnight.    
  
The Orbital Knight preened. ‘Do you like it?’ he enquired, languidly running two hands down the maroon lapels of his crimson Martian longcoat with the gold buttons winking like hemispheres. The trousers were back too, tailored to his form and the knee high boots. ‘I’ll miss the paisley cravat and the plaid, of course.’  
  
‘You can’t walk around dressed like a Martian, this isn’t a question about fashion, senator. It is completely inappropriate given the war,’ he said helplessly. The mayor enjoyed his fancy dress parties decked in brocade but he had finally taken a step too far and in the politically incorrect sense.   
  
‘But my dear man, I am, a Martian.’ He explained seriously, causing the man’s adam apple to bob visibly as he swallowed. ‘Count Besalier of the 23rd Clan at your service.’ He bowed as humbly as his pride would allow it.   
  
A blonde haired girl in an impractical white dress walked in. All around the benches jaws dropped. ‘And I present to the senate my sovereign liege, her Highness Asseylum Vers Allusia.’  
  
‘Is this a military coup?’ Felipe asked faintly.   
  
Besalier rolled his eyes and sniffed. ‘There are refreshments available if you feel the sudden urge to faint,’ he told Felipe before continuing, drawing titters of amusement from a few of the attendees present who had only been peripherally affected by the war. He raised his voice again. ‘I present to the senate Slaine Troyard of the Terrans.’ The blond haired boy walked in and adjusted a glove.  
  
‘I present to the senate, my estranged adopted son, Count Saazbaum of the Martian Forces, although you may know him as the Viceroy I assure all present that they are two separate entities, a point I hope to clarify later on…’  
  
This announcement drew bigger and horrified gasps, one senator actually showed the whites of his eyes fell backwards out of their chair and was hurriedly carried by two other senators and laid in the isle.   
  
‘Mister Speaker, I request the immediate expulsion of the Lord Mayor and his party from the premises for casually endangering the lives of the congress,’ A crisp female senator recommended.   
  
‘I reject the request,’ Count Besalier said with a smile of faint amusement at their expense, ‘As the recently elected President of the Senate it is within my powers.’  
  
‘You have not been officially instated. I cast a vote of no confidence against this Martian or imposter.’   
  
‘Senator Amanda, during the events of Heaven’s Fall,’ Besalier said, examining his nails, ’Did you truly believe that a noncombatant or soldier from your side would be close enough to pull you from the wreckage before you perished or have you perhaps been in denial all this time? Will you not at least hear what I have to say next before casting me out?’  
  
She flushed a furious red and sat down. ‘Very well,’ She informed him flatly, ‘I withdraw my vote, however I remind the Lord Mayor that the line of argument he presents is highly irregular.’  
  
‘As another irregularity, I present to the Senate one Colonel Magbaredge I have been harbouring since an unfortunate Martian incursion although the details are classified.’ Impressed eyes took in the woman who had commanded multiple successful raids against the Martian forces. Some were as wide as saucers, he was pleasantly surprised to observe.   
  
The fainted senator was being revived by one of his servants wielding a fan which was flapped to produce a general breeze. The senator with him was applying a moist towel compress to the man’s forehead.   
  
‘Lord Mayor are you trying to get us murdered for harbouring dangerous fugitives?’ A square jawed senator with a moustache said indignantly, though his eyes quivered. ‘Are you exacting a Martian plot for revenge?’   
  
‘Senator Luis, your accusation wounds me. I am at the very worst an equal opportunities harbourer.’ This time there was a fair smatter of laughter from the other senators. A few clapped. ‘My final presentation to the senate is Mr Inaho Kaizuka whom you may remember as the brilliant strategist who, although quite deceased like her Highness and Mr Troyard, does not render them incapable of mystically returning from the afterlife.’  
  
‘He’s just a schoolboy,’ a fair-haired senator interjected, pointing at the dark haired Inaho.   
  
‘Was he just a schoolboy when he singlehandedly triumphed against multiple Kataphrakts in a Sleipnir?’ Count Besalier enquired. ‘My proposition to the Brazilian Senate and by extension, the Congress is this, to support my push to liberate the Earth.’ He spread his hands to encompass all his guests. ‘As you can see, we have some of the most brilliant military minds among us and together with the remains of UE’s forces together with my own I am certain that we can triumph in this war to end all wars.’  
  



	54. Learning

  
_A leader skulks behind lines, safe and secure, in our case, behind a superior Kataphrakt. There is a bulletproof screen separating the leader from the reality of their people, and unless we give up that separation we will never be able to truly understand the plight of those we lead._ – On Leadership  
  
‘You need to stop slouching and stand up straight, dear boy.’  
  
Slaine blinked.  
  
‘Inaho does not shrink. He looks forward like a soldier.’ Besalier said. ‘Appearances are important as they are the first thing that person is judged by when they are leading.’  
  
They were in the Kataphrakt storage bays. Rows of them were stored here, the numerous Terran crafts on the left and the Mars crafts on the right.  
  
‘But I’ll be in Tharsis,’ Slaine objected. ‘I won’t be leading anyone.’  
  
‘You’d best be prepared to lead,’ The older man replied. ‘We’re waging a war with high stakes. UE captured 8 crafts and I captured 2 crafts and I’ve been delegated with distributing them. There are very few Terrans with experience piloting them so you’ll be tasked to Tharsis, Inaho will be tasked to another and the rest of the pilots will be drawn from my own men. I have a few Kataphrakts of my own but we’re drawn thin and we’re going to be considerably outnumbered. Therefore,’ his voice entered a commanding tone. ‘Chin up.’   
  
He whistled a merry tune and exited.   
  


* * *

  
‘Yuki, these things look like jetpacks.’ Calm said, holding up one by the carry strap at the top, one hand holding it out and another on the rungs of the ladder. It was white and oblong in shape with soft edges. The pattern made by the fluffy neck of the bag appeared to have been made by an internal drawstring.     
  
‘I’m not so sure. To me they look more like safety bags. And careful!’   
  
The warning came too late.  ‘Wo-aahh,’ Calm said, wobbling. He lost his balance and crashed to the floor. ‘Don’t worry Yuki, I’m fine.’  
  
Yuki sighed. Luckily he’d only been on the fourth or the fifth rung. ‘We’ll have to wait until the briefing to find out.’ She made a face, anticipating a rather dry lecture run by Saazbaum and his visual aids. Slaine tended to act as his assistant but he would shift his weight from side by side throughout the presentations which had the effect of attracting the attention of every Terran or Martian whose concentration and patience had faded out.   
  



	55. Loss

_What constitutes a military victory, when it can still be achieved at a 30% casualty rate? In a war, with so many soldiers, the individual becomes but a number. It is in the nature of war to be pyrrhic._ \-- Lamentations   
  
The Viceroy was fighting a losing war. He had been pushed back from the Eastern Seaboard and back across the pacific. In the Americas, a tactical manoeuvre and a broken Kataphrakt formation cost him the country. And even in regions he thought he’d controlled such as Africa, skirmishes kept erupting as soldiers were rallied, fighting to defend their country from the invaders.   
  
But not that it mattered.  
  
Everything he had tried to achieve had been for nothing. Doctor Troyard had finished the experimental time machine but managed to disappear completely. He had last been spotted vanishing for Tanegashima in a Sky Carrier, giving a vaguely scientific excuse for his disappearance.   
  
Orlane’s heart he had irreversibly lost despite his attempt to make amendments, his pleas to her had fell on deaf ears. Now Orlane still made an effort to fight for him in the Deucalion, and she was no longer invested in the conflict. And Krachkoff had followed his superior in his own Kataphrakt, leaving him alone and stranded in the Landing Castle of another.   
  
And, to add to the irony, the only person who he had left, was the person whose mistreatment had started it all. It had been an entirely futile exercise. He had never been essential to the creation of a time machine, nor had torture yielded any results. As if to spite him, it was the fact that he’d stopped demanding answers and given him some freedom which had made the Doctor being significantly more receptive to conversation.   
  
Although the alien still criticised him and was angered by his schemes, nothing rankled him more than the pity of a former prisoner. He would uncomfortably feel those soulful blue-grey not quite human eyes filled with compassion following him around.  
  
He was shaken out of his thoughts by the judder of the Landing Castle. ‘Sir, we’ve taken a hit.’ A cleanly shaven officer reported.   
  
‘Damage report.’ He ordered briefly.   
  
‘One of the missiles pierced our shielding however the drive is still intact.’  
  
On the viewscreen several hundred taunting holographic copies of Dioscuria appeared, born out of one original craft, skimming at all points throughout a spherical radius. From a high vantage point, there were so many copies that it appeared as a patchy sphere.   
  
Count Besalier had claimed he had gunned it down.  
  
Count Besalier had lied. His lone craft Hyperion lurked at the centre of the illusory horde of the Viceroy’s erstwhile ship, periodically the blaze of green and white of it could be seen.    
  
He swore. At this distance, an EM would take down their landing castle as well, but the illusory capacity of the craft was limited. ‘I want sixty percent of our anti-aircraft fire concentrated on Hyperion. Evacuate all critical personnel from the line of fire.’   
  
From the arcs forming the upper platform of the landing castle, missiles were launched. The Viceroy watched as all of crafts split neatly, avoiding the missiles. A few illusory Dioscuria near the missiles mimicked an explosion whilst others launched false warheads.  
  
But his eyes were on the green Kataphrakt. It dropped and swerved to the right, but a missile hit it, causing the craft to explode in four lashings of flames, but none of the Dioscurias dissipated.   
  
A few Terran crafts had also been destroyed by now, the remains a billowing black cloud drifting upwards, but the vast majority had been able to evade the targeted fire.  
  
‘Sir, we must have hit a decoy.’ A technician reported, confirming his suspicions. His quick fingers manipulated the view and rotated the image. ‘Interestingly, enough I believe that the destruction of the decoy has left a small hole in the holographic field.  
  
The Viceroy paused. A niggling suspicion gnawed at the back of his mind. The destruction of the Hyperion would have destroyed the field. ‘Could Besalier have shared the properties of his Kataphrakt with all the UEF crafts?’  
  
‘It would be impossible without sacrificing his own Kataphrakt.’ The man replied.   
  
The Viceroy frowned. ‘A true waste. He played the martyr so that he had every strategy on his hand to win.’ he told the man. ‘We should never discount the possibility that we have underestimated our opponent.’   
  
And yet cornered dogs were the most dangerous. And a Martian who’d resort to dissecting his Kataphrakt was the most dangerous of them all, throwing away the ace in the hand. The war on multiple fronts must have exhausted most of their other forces.  
  
‘The holographic capabilities are like portions of a screen. They could theoretically be partitioned but a sliver of the activated drive and machinery would need to be removed and implanted into each ship. Each portion would be only a fraction as powerful as the original, however the overall range and the overall durability of the hologram would be extended.’  
  
‘So in that case, we would need to destroy every single craft carrying a fragment of Hyperion to end the illusion.’ He concluded. Thinking quickly, he said:  ‘Withdraw all our personnel as far from the Terran crafts as possible then launch a 2 kilometre radius EM surge on their crafts. Then blanket the area with heat seeking missiles drawing on auxiliary power.’  
  
‘But sir, at that proximity an EM would knock out our own defences.’  
  
‘This Landing Castle is all but lost. If we cannot identify our enemies we will end up firing on our own troops. Inform Countess Orlane of our plans, then evacuate all non-essential personnel. I am calling a retreat of all our Kataphrakts and our local forces. We will regroup over Shanghai.’   
  
‘Sir,’ A messenger stepped up onto the bridge. ‘We’ve received reports that your prisoners have escaped.’  
  



	56. Request

_In Norse mythology, Loki was the god of the ever-changing faces, the trouble maker possessing the designs_. – A Classic Digest of Terran Mythology  
  
Five guards had been posted outside the room where the Doctor was staying. Their duties included guarding him and ensuring that the maximum high security prisoner didn’t escape with his female accomplice. But somehow, nobody had informed Menzies that his duty included sneaking the prisoner items underneath the Viceroy’s nose.  
  
It had begun with simple requests. Ice cubes for a drink. A large bottle containing some water. Lemon juice. Then the requests had rapidly become a little more dangerous.   
  
Today for example, books were on the menu. The fact that the Viceroy wasn’t famed for his forgiveness didn’t help with the request.  
  
If only that damn man didn’t have eyes that could spontaneously become large and pleading, Menzies thought.   
  
‘Just one book,’ The Doctor said, nodding his head causing the curls to bounce up and down. And he was inclined to overexcitement too, pacing the large room with barely contained energy.   
  
If Menzies didn’t meet the man’s requests he would probably find the Time Lord rebounding off the walls like a human shaped ping pong ball.   
  
He sighed and agreed. He didn’t feel nervous around the man, his cat and the woman the way some of the guards did. The Doctor was oddly agreeable and never too insistent to make him feel uncomfortable. It was part of his charm.   
  
It was in this mental state that he almost walked into the Viceroy. The man’s eyebrows had knitted themselves into a severe frown of concentration. With him was a brownhaired woman with shoulder length hair and freckles. She wore a reassuring smile.  
  
‘Apologies for this impromptu meeting with the prisoner, I haven’t come at an inopportune time. Your name, guard?’  
  
‘Menzies, sir.’ He said. And gulped.   
  



	57. Progress

_Beethoven, in his time, commemorated a famous battle piece (Wellingtons Sieg oder die Schlacht bei Vittoria) which proved to be a monetary success but aesthetic failure, condemned alternately as an opportunistic attempt to capitalise on an upswelling of patriotism._ – Classical Composition  
  
The Doctor had gotten up the 2nd movement of Symphony No. 7 in A major and was well on the way through the Allegretto playing the parts of the flutes, the oboes, the clarinets and the horns all in a clear succession when Liv finally came in. She began dismantling the apparatus of the Temporal Echo chamber which was still sitting behind the chair, flinging the bottles into the drawers and the pouring the melted ice water down the drains.  
  
‘What?’ He asked in the voice of a child who had just had his chemistry experiment upset. Liv swept the entire table bare rapidly, in such a hurry that some of the bottles rolled their way onto the floor.   
  
She shook her head. ‘Not now,’ she whispered.   
  
‘There is really no need for that, Doctor Starling.’ Menzies and another woman followed the Viceroy like a lapdog.   
  
Wolsey uncoiled himself and padded over the Viceroy causing Liv to wince internally. The last incident hadn’t gone down well, with Wolsey taking swipes at the man and hissing venomously at the man with ears flattened against his skull.   
  
Clearly Menzies thought the same. ‘Um sir? Should I dislodge the animal?’ Wolsey had sat down in front of Saazbaum so he couldn’t progress further out of the doorway and thumped his tail horizontally on the white ground.   
  
‘There is no need.’ Saazbaum simply bent down and scratched at the base of Wolsey’s ears, causing them to pointing forwards. The feline sat up and walked away. ‘Could I please have a moment alone with the prisoners in private?’  
  
‘Certainly, sir, I’ll be just behind the door if you need me.’ The door closed with a thump and was locked with a short bleep.  
  
The instant he was gone, Liv took three measured paces and struck Saazbaum across the face and the sound rang across the room with one open hand. He stumbled backwards, nursing a sore cheek. ‘That,’ she said very clearly, ‘Was for what you did to the Doctor.’  
  
‘Liv, that’s not the Viceroy.’ The Doctor’s voice held a quiet authority. He pointed at Wolsey. The cat had walked up to Saazbaum. One of his hands was pressed to his face, but the other one patted the cat awkwardly, eliciting a quiet purr. The tail manoeuvred like a broom to sweep the top of the floor. ‘Clever animals, cats. They see things that humans don’t.’  
  
‘I’m guessing from your reaction that my other self wasn’t exactly the most hospitable person in the world.’ Saazbaum said.  
  
‘Like I’d believe that, on your word and the behaviour of a cat. You’ve shown yourself more than capable of deception on a number of occasions.’ Liv retorted but then Asseylum deactivated the hologram which dropped the freckles, the brown hair and several years and walked up to hug her.   
  
‘I’m glad the two of you are ok,’ she said, ‘but Saazbaum definitely isn’t lying.’  
  
Liv held her tongue. The Princess clearly saw the reaction because she said, ‘You shouldn’t hold him responsible for the other one’s actions. Please don’t hurt him.’  
  
She drew in a breath, internally disagreeing. ‘I understand.’ Besides, she didn’t want to go into the philosophical side of the concept of “self”.   
  
‘And on the flip side of the coin, our Saazbaum isn’t disliked by the TARDIS. She kept rejecting the other version of you which is interesting, since we know she doesn’t reject you.’ The Doctor said, peering at him owlishly. He wouldn’t have looked out of place with halfmoon spectacles, Liv thought.  
  
‘Oh?’ Saazbaum said with a wry humour. ‘What did she do? Launch my chickens at him?’ He tickled the Wolsey’s chin with a finger. The cat sneezed archly. ‘If this little monster hasn’t eaten them all yet that is.’  
  
But the Doctor was frowning. ‘And on that matter, I didn’t enjoy looking at the Viceroy either.’  
  
‘Well there was a perfectly logical explanation for that one,’ Liv said in a pointed tone. Saazbaum looked as if he was dying to ask what had happened but didn’t appear too keen on voicing his question. Well, he’d probably end up waiting forever, she thought sourly, because she wasn’t about to give him the answer.  
  
‘No Liv.’ He wrung his hands. ‘It’s my time sense. There is something very wrong about him.’ He stressed. ‘There’s something very wrong about this planet, in fact. The walls between this reality are too thin, we wouldn’t have been able to slip through otherwise.’  
  
‘Tanegshima.’ Saazbaum’s words caused the Doctor to blink. ‘In any case, we shouldn’t dally. You two get to the TARDIS.’  He opened the door, Asseylum reinstated the hologram and a quiet word with Menzies caused the guard to come in.    
  
‘I showed you a blue shed with the words “blue telephone police box” inscribed on its side did I not?’   
  
‘Um, sir, you only showed it…’ He glanced around at the Doctor and Starling who were listening attentively.  
  
‘Please, feel free speak in their presence,’ Saazbaum raised his hand lazily.   
  
‘… To Doctor Troyard and his team.’ His face wrinkled in confusion. ‘I thought that since Troyard left there wasn’t much data left for Tanegshima to collect?’  
  
‘You do have a general idea of where it is located, don’t you?’ Saazbaum said with a slight impatient edge which wasn’t entirely faked. ‘I have more important matters to attend to on the bridge than playing a tourist guide.’  
  
‘Yes, sir.’ He saluted.  
  
‘Then take the Doctor to this structure and rapidly. Let the man do what needs to be done without question as I have obtained his co-operation. I will be with you shortly.’ He beckoned and Asseylum followed.   
  



	58. Collaboration

_I wish to be the catalyst for change, to set aside the differences between Earth and Mars. Even if it costs me my life, that is my final wish._ – First Princess Asseylum Vers Allusia (10 seconds predeath. Cause: hypovolemic shock.)  
   
They walked down the metal corridors at a rapid pace. Not so fast that they broke out in a run, but fast nonetheless. Despite the solid thickness of the landing castle walls, the sounds of machine gun fire, missile impacts and shearing metal could often be heard.  
  
They encountered very few patrolling Martians. Although a few heads turned in their direction kept his eyes forward and projected a careful authority. His uniform did the rest and after a while the heads would turn back into place as the men and women turned their attention back to their assigned duties.   
  
Asseylum ducked into a passage which had a low lying ceiling with protruding pipes. It was darker and slightly moister than the rest of the ship.   
  
‘What a perfect location for murder,’ she said lightly.   
  
Saazbaum only rolled his eyes and said, ‘Do you have the two tranquiliser guns?’ But even in the dim light she could see that both her hands were unsteady as she reached into the voluminous folds of her dress extracting the weapons, handing him one. The muzzles projected forwards and they were particularly slender and light.   
  
She checked the loading. ‘Three shots,’ she said in confirmation. They were 0.5 calibre darts loaded with barbiturate and a short acting amnesiac designed to wipe out the target’s most recent memories. They’d practiced with the rifles on a simulation run against virtual targets with Belisar and Darzana. Saazbaum was a better shot then she was.   
  
She took a breath as she recalled the instructions. Aim, steady, fire. It was a simple process which could be rote learned through practice.   
  
‘So, we have six shots in between us. Count Belisar gave me spare darts and I picked this up from Menzies.’ He put the handgun in her palm. Her fingers didn’t close over the smooth steel of the grip, so reluctantly, he closed them with the fingers of his other hand.  
  
Their eyes met. ‘I’m not going to need it,’ she said. Trying to convince herself.   
  
‘It’s merely a precaution. Besides’ He added double checking the Terran made Glock to ensure the safety was off and the gun was loaded before repocketing it.  ‘I said I’d bring you back alive. If I end up firing on you, this time you’d at least have the opportunity to shoot me first.’  
  
‘That isn’t funny at all.’ She said in a reproachful tone. Not even the best medical treatment in the galaxy had been able to erase the scars fully. Hers was on the lower cervical neck vertebrae, Saazbaum had one through his left rib and the bullet had passed through the spleen and two more in the abdominal region and Inaho had one above his sternoclavicular junction.   
  
Only Slaine had been conscious on the day of mass hospitalisation and she still remembered being wheeled into the ER. Sometimes she still woke up in the nights screaming, but she was hardly going to admit that she still had flashbacks if she was particularly stressed during the day.   
  
‘Perhaps if we’re lucky your other self will simply run into the space piranhas and we won’t have to steal the TARDIS key off him.’ That elicited a twitch of the lips from him and a soft snigger and smugger expression.   
  
‘There’d still be the nine guards and the numerous technicians and bridge staff to deal with,’ he drawled. ‘Krachkoff will definitely be with him if Orlane is there and we have no idea whose side they’ll take.’  
  
‘You might end up having to kill them.’ Asseylum said quietly. ‘Perhaps I should go alone.’  
  
He hmphed. ‘I meant the oath I swore. I’ll stand by you, life and loyalty. You’ll never have to be alone if you don’t want to, for as long as I live.’      
  
She stopped, then looked at him. ‘Sometimes I think that it is better to be alone.’ She said quietly. ‘Fewer people would be hurt as a result of my decisions. Inaho, Rayet, Slaine, you.... If the Royal family never existed, then people would have been free to make their own decisions, free of the poor decisions of my father.’  
  
He sensed trouble. ‘You’ve hurt no one. You aren’t your father, aren’t responsible for Mars’ thinning atmosphere or the drought and I’m responsible for the war. Perhaps I realise that now.’  
  
‘Then,’ she said, ‘Maybe we shouldn’t be fighting your other self. That’s you, after all, the you that never had that opportunity to understand. Maybe that’s what we should be doing, talking and not invading.’  
  
Saazbaum imagined Asseylum as a one person intent on achieving reconciliation by taking on the burden of the world’s ills alone and shuddered. Those were too heavy for anybody, let alone a fifteen year old which Asseylum was. No matter how she behaved or spoke, it was wrong to let her take up that responsibility.  
  
I’ll shoulder the burden for you instead, he thought. His sins would stay his own. He forced a smile and reached over, patting her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry yourself on my behalf, Princess.’  He undid the tranquilliser’s safety with a slight pneumatic hiss.   
  
Asseylum took that as her cue to do the same. He breathed a small sigh of relief when she didn’t drop the gun to the ground but instead slipped it into her pockets.   
  



	59. Id

_‘The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.’_ –Martin Luther King  
   
Progress to the bridge proceeded relatively unimpeded. Asseylum and Saazbaum left a small trail of unconscious bodies in their wake as they passed across the corridor from the lift. They had been able to snipe most guards from the behind, especially as he had been able to recall their exact locations.   
  
Only one woman had given them a minor issue by noticing them. The dart fired by the princess had missed her body and she had evaded Saazbaum’s too, but he’d managed to extract one of the unused hypodermics and manually insert the tip into her neck before she could call for help.  
  
In many cases when they’d been noticed, the soldiers were so used to following the orders of their uniformed superiors that they hadn’t anticipated the attack, an element which they used to their advantage.   
  
However, the further they got to the bridge, the greater the number of guards who correctly identified Saazbaum as an imposter.   
  
Both Saazbaum and Asseylum were slightly out of breath when they rounded the corner. The two guards who were standing by the door had their backs faced to the war and their guns at the ready.   
  
‘Sir?’ One man said, alarmed. ‘How did you manage to get out without-‘ The man didn’t finish the sentence. Saazbaum punched the man in the face with one hand and seized the man’s wrists with the other, sending the man’s gun flying. Before the man could complete his kick Asseylum’s dart hit him above the collarbone, causing the man’s knees to fold and his nose met the ground in an instant, the gun rattling on the floor.   
  
The other man attempted to shoot her. It passed through the side of the hologram, causing a ripple effect. He gaped, ‘Intruders,’ he managed to report before the communication fizzled out. He looked at the dart embedded in his arm in surprise as he joined his peer face down on the floor.   
  
‘Screwdriver,’ Asseylum said. Saazbaum handed her the metal rod without a word as they moved the bodies aside with a few tugs. Ordinarily, he’d have opened the door but this one was locked from the inside. Perhaps his other self suspected that he was here, he thought, but from the noises coming from behind the door the man was probably occupied by Besalier’s little spectacle.    
  
She set to work on the door panel. It took a few nerve tearing minutes which seemed to stretch on forever causing her heart rate to skyrocket, but she found the correct frequency and caused the internal lock mechanism to click.  
  
She switched of her holographic clothing causing a burst of pure light. Concurrently, the screwdriver vanished back into his pockets. ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked levelly, not quite meeting her eyes. She noticed that his expression was a little pinched. Whether it was reluctance or uncertainty, the emotion was more pronounced than usual.   
  
The door slid open.  
  
 ‘Of course.’ She said and went to step through, but before she could complete the motion Saazbaum seized her by the back of the dress and shoved her through, hard enough that she stumbled forward and fell to her knees hard, sprawling gracelessly on the walkway leading to the bridge  
  
‘What?’ She mumbled in dazed surprise. This wasn’t… part of Besalier’s plan. There was the sharp sound of a gun being drawn. She turned to look, but the barrel of the gun was pointed at the centre of her head. The niggling worry spread. Saazbaum’s brown eyes were completely dead, as if the spark had drifted out of them.   
  
‘I am rather afraid that there has a last minute change of plans.’ He said, addressing her in a tone so neutral he could have been speaking to a stranger.   
  
The activity quickly drew the activity of uniformed guards and attendants. A few had drawn weapons and pointed their guns at the Count and another cluster held them towards Asseylum, copying the actions of their neighbours, relying on the judgements of others to determine the greater threat. The non-combatants were frozen to their terminals. Confusion reigned, but discipline prevailed.   
  
‘I have brought you a gift.’ The Count said voice echoing, unimpeded through the chamber, directing the words to the person standing at the other end of the bridge. Although he toed the Princess’ form with one boot, his gun never strayed from Princess’ head. ‘As previously communicated. Are the details to your liking?’  
  
‘Your exactitude and timing is impeccable as ever.’ The Viceroy replied, a pleased and self-satisfied smile gracing his features. ‘I knew that you could be brought to see reason, given that your decision was properly informed.’ Krachkoff and Orlane stood next to him, wearing twin expressions of uncertainty as they tried and failed to reconcile the Asseylum that Saazbaum had always communicated so pleasantly with the betrayal unfolding in front of their very eyes.   
  
‘We have the same mind. It was inevitable that we’d reach the same conclusion eventually,’ His other self echoed and to Asseylum’s eyes that though one was resigned and the other was smiled in other aspect they were one and the same.   
  



	60. Ego

_And then I stole all courtesy from heaven/And dressed myself in such humility/That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts_ –King Henry IV by Shakespeare (Place of Origin: Sol III, Mutter’s Spiral)  
  
The Count… winked. It was a very small blink and miss gesture and when he turned to talk to his other self his voice was with the same dryness as before as if nothing had happened.   
  
But Asseylum caught the signal in an instant. It was the only warning that she got before Saazbaum fired the shot. Under the hologram she had silently activated, it passed just over her head, but to the eyes of every other onlooker it fired true and a liberal amount of blood sprayed and spread all over her form.  
  
The Viceroy’s expression in that moment to the loss of the hostage was instantly priceless. ‘What?’ He roared and spun smartly on one heel. His younger self didn’t bother replying, he’d already followed the movement up by swapping the firearm for the slimmer tranquiliser rifle. One of the uniformed lackeys, lulled into a sense of security by the discussion of settlements was downed in an instant, a dart puncturing his shoulder. The person adjacent to him followed immediately, unconscious before drawing his weapon.   
  
A few of the smarter and better trained Martians hadn’t put away their weapons away. One fired a bullet which skimmed the younger Saazbaum’s jacket. The second bullet he sidestepped, in a movement which the Doctor would have been proud of and his third dart flew true, hitting one surprised woman between the eyes. She slipped to the ground. The gun dropped out of her grip as her muscles turning into water.   
  
‘Cease firing immediately!’ Orlane had finally snapped out of her stupor.   
  
‘I countermand that order! Kill the Princess and that imposter at once!’ The Viceroy barked, fingers scrambling for his own weapon. Half the Martians obeyed Orlane putting down their weapons and half obeyed the Viceroy.  
  
Asseylum swore softly when she realised that she was out of darts. With clumsy, slow fingers, she reached to reload ammo.  Across the room, the Count was doing the same.   
  
‘Put down your weapons, men.’ Krachkoff shouted. ‘If you kill the younger Saazbaum you’ll kill both of them.’  
  
Not a strictly true statement, but it baffled more of the soldiers and guards who hesitated, giving Asseylum an opening which she instantly took advantage of. She brought down two men, missing another one. A bullet hit the ground in front of her but she lunged to the side and it ricocheted off the floor harmlessly. One person reached for a weapon but she knocked it out of range with a kick. Another person tried to grab her, but she brought her fist down on the hands hard, causing her attacker to yelp in pain and an elbow in the neck finally caused the woman to drop her.   
  
Unfortunately, she wasn’t so lucky the second time when a second pair of arms snaked out to grab her in a choke hold. It was the Viceroy, driven almost demented with fury, pointing a gun at her head. She kicked at him but his grip didn’t relent.  Somewhere along the way, he’d managed to acquire a gunshot wound to his upper arm and the holographic blood which Asseylum hadn’t the chance to dismiss was now merging with some real blood. ‘Surrender, you backstabbing fool, or your precious royal accomplice dies.’  
  
‘Then consider this ultimatum, let go of her or I’ll shoot myself.’ The Count put the gun against his temple. His counterpart’s expression boggled at the threatened suicide. It was his second puzzled expression for the day.   
  
‘That hardly constitutes a threat,’ the other Saazbaum said scornfully, recovering quickly. ‘You must have originated from an alternate reality one which exists independently from this timeline. Whether you kill yourself or not will have no impact on whether or not I exist. Perhaps I should have let my men do the job for you.’  
  
‘Are you willing to wager your entire existence on it?’ The younger one’s tightened his finger on the trigger. He sneered.  
  
The other Saazbaum’s expression twisted into murderous rage. ‘I may not be able to kill you, but I will certainly make you suffer!’ He shouted, punctuating the syllables.   
  
He was sufficiently distracted that his hold loosened somewhat. It didn’t allow Asseylum much room to manoeuver, but she slammed the back of her skull into his nose, feeling the bones and cartilage crunch. His grip broke altogether and she immediately wrenched free.   
  
Judging that he was too preoccupied with his injuries, the Viceroy was bleeding rather profusely, Asseylum made the mistake of turning her back.   
  
The next few seconds passed in a blur. The Count shouted a warning in alarm. She turned in time to see the older Saazbaum retrieve the gun and train it on her, but Orlane managed to grab his coat tails from behind, causing his aim to go awry and the bullet ended up hitting the ceiling of the Landing Castle. In utter irritation, he punched her in the face, knocking her out, but not before she tripped him up on the way down, causing him to land flat and spluttering on his back, knocking the breath straight out of his lungs.   
  
Krachkoff came to Orlane’s aid but wasn’t so fortunate. The Viceroy still hadn’t let go of his gun so he ended up   
firing head on at him. One bullet missed and impacted the wall, but the other flew into his ribs causing the man to collapse.   
  
The older Saazbaum had somehow found the strength to stand up. A few drops of blood landed on her shoulders as he loomed over her, pupils contracted into pinheads. She tried to sight the rifle but he seized her wrist first and shook her until it fell out of her grasp.   
  
This is bad, she thought. He was still holding his gun and the other Saazbaum was nowhere in sight.  
  
He went to pull the trigger.   
  
There was the impression of crisp blue lightning as the two Saazbaums came into physical contact.  
  



	61. Superego

_The ego-ideal, the idealised self has long been regarded as that which we aspire to be but can never attain._ – Psychology, 10th Edition  
  
They ended the affair with zero dead but numerous injuries. Besalier’s troops had contained the remnants of the Viceroy’s troops but the Martians on the outside were being held at arm’s length from the Landing Castle ensuring that the number of people who had seen the two Saazbaums had been effectively contained. The main offender of the entire scuffle, the older Saazbaum, had been knocked unconscious by the excess time energy released by the blast and had been tranquilised, as an additional precaution. This procedure had been carried out by his younger self with more enthusiasm then was strictly necessary.  
  
Of the people on the bridge, the remaining individuals left standing, mostly the noncombatants, had consented to the procedure of being tranquilised and subsequently having their short term memory wiped.  They’d wake up some time tomorrow, perhaps disorientated, but with no memory of the highly paradoxical appearance courtesy of Besalier’s chemical cocktail.   
  
Krachkoff envied their blissful ignorance. Only the four of them, the younger Saazbaum, Asseylum, Krachkoff and Orlane were still conscious.   
  
‘So they just shorted out the time differentials. That’s the Blinovitch Limitation Effect.’ Asseylum was saying, midway through an explanation. The TARDIS key had been retrieved from the Viceroy and was now being worn around her neck.   
  
‘One day, I hope to obtain an explanation in plain English.’ Krachkoff was a little pale, but other than that he looked fine as the bullet had grazed his ribs. He had staunched the wound with his jacket.   
   
The scene was interrupted by the door sliding open. To prevent the people on the inside escaping outside, Asseylum had reconfigured the lock mechanism so it could only open on the outside. The risk that nobody would make it out alive was acceptable. ‘Finally,’ Orlane muttered, but it wasn’t the expected two party team consisting of Slaine and Inaho.  
  
It was Menzies. ‘Sir, I delivered the prisoners…’ His voice abruptly ended. ‘Is that blood?’  
  
Saazbaum, as casually as possible, stepped in front of his other self’s prone form concealing the face, internally bemoaning his lack of foresight.   
      
‘Please step inside,’ He told the guard, but it was too late, the man had drawn a firearm, hand shaking so badly that he had to use a second hand to stabilise his grip.   
  
‘Why does that man have your face?’ Menzies said, stunned. ‘What in Heavens name is going on?’  
  
Saazbaum and Krachkoff exchanged a look. The tranquiliser rifle held loosely at the Count’s side rose a little.  
  
‘Stop moving!’ The guard practically shouted. The amount of white bordering his irises indicated that he was beyond reason.  
  
‘I think you should put that gun down,’ Asseylum said in a tone she’d seen Inaho use to placate animals, staring deep into his eyes. ‘I am Princess Asseylum Vers Allusia and this is a sanctioned action.’  
  
It only tripled the amount of trembling of the guard’s hands. Krachkoff sighed internally. This would need a different approach. Taking up the mantle of a drillmaster, he shouted, ‘Stand to attention, soldier.’ He signalled to Saazbaum and the man obliged, putting the rifle in his hands.  
  
Menzies’ response was the practiced salute of the man who’d been endlessly drilled. He snapped reflexively into a salute as Krachkoff fluidly fired the rifle with neat and precise movements, unimpeded by the injuries. Asseylum watched as the dart pierced the man above the collarbone. A few more quick paces allowed him to catch the guard before he hit the ground and gently lay him to rest.   
  
‘I think I’ve had far too much excitement in one day,’ the head of security said. He handed the rifle back and rubbed his eyes.   
  



	62. Fortune

_The media were the real winners in the war. They were the mercenaries of the time, for the right price they were at everybody’s beck and call. Both Vers and the UEF needed accolades written, heroes anointed and villains slandered._ – New Media (scanned)  
  
Slaine sat on one of Tharsis’ shieldlike projections as Calm lowered him to the ground. He was relieved that the tortuous trip in the Tharsis’ cockpit was over. It hadn’t been pleasant with the blond crammed in between the wall and underneath Slaine’s legs in a space designed to fit one, whilst steadily manoeuvring the ship between the Martian forces in a ship that lacked proper restraints.   
  
‘Good luck,’ The blonde haired boy said and even though Slaine couldn’t see his face, he knew that it was accompanied by a cheeky smile and a thumbs up. Once he was within jumping distance of the Landing Castle, Slaine stuck one leg over the edge and hopped down, absorbing the momentum in the balls of his feet as he flexed his knees. He waved goodbye to the departing Kataphrakt.  
  
Inaho had arrived first with Rayet via Dioscuria ahead of schedule. He zipped up his combat gear with one hand and with the other hand slotted in an earpiece.  ‘I’m streaming the fastest path to the TARDIS to your phone right now,’ he said.   
  
‘And Darzana’s troops are expected in five minutes, tops.’ Slaine replied. An unofficial surrender had been issued and Asseylum and Saazbaum had reached the drop off point. It was the perfect opportunity for a lightly armed two person cleanup team to double check that everybody relevant was sleeping soundly and that the other two weren’t facing any issues. ‘You don’t think this is over, do you?’  
  
Inaho looked at the blue sky and cumulus cloud formations streaked with cirrus plumes.  ‘It’s far easier than I anticipated.’ He admitted. ‘According to the Princess’ report the TARDIS hasn’t even been moved from the original location.’ He paused. ‘I’d have the Doctor check that his machine is in working order before feeling any sense of relief. I suspect a trap.’  
  
‘You’re not a very optimistic person, are you, Inaho?’ Slaine said, readying the rifle. It was a little longer and less portable than the ones that Saazbaum and Asseylum had been carrying. ‘Rendez vous at 13 hours?’  
  
‘Max. I’ll be there.’ Inaho said, turning away. ‘Optimism can often lead to disappointment. I prefer a more realistic approach, it allows more room to make and alter strategies.’  
  
It was once they parted to cover ground more efficiently that Inaho’s phone played four tones. He dug it up and held it in an open palm. It was an intercepted call from Doctor Troyard to Slaine’s phone. He answered the call, putting it to his ear until Troyard’s pre-recorded message expired. He said nothing and taking nothing of it in save a few mental notes. The line hung up a few seconds after.   
  
The real question was how a supposedly dead man had found the number, but a trace would help them identify or narrow down his location.  
  



	63. Misconceptions

_Both the audience and the employers of Harmony were blinded by the sensationalist lies. Favours, secrets and bribes passed to the corporation’s ears daily, they were well paid in both legal and illegal avenues for their propaganda._ – New Media (scanned)  
  
‘I once had a Christmas tree which looked exactly like this,’ The Doctor said. The TARDIS had wires and thick connection cables spewing out of the belly. He carefully disconnected one of the larger cables. It tapered off into a narrower connector, which he stared at in perplexion, before tossing aside. ‘Martians use USB 2.0?’ He scratched his head.  
  
‘Terran technology. Streaming is far more popular and Aldnoah makes data transfer particularly efficient, when disseminated across the air.’ Saazbaum remarked.   
  
‘That or somebody was paranoid,’ Slaine said.  
  
Six heads turned to him. ‘Well considering the fact that the technology is outdated fewer people would possess eavesdropping technology required to interface with the devices and the fact that it’s a physical cable would mean that hacking would need to be done locally.’ He said defensively.  
  
‘You have some very good ideas,’ Inaho observed. ‘What do you think about this incident? Earlier today I intercepted a phone call to you from your father. He wants you back.’  
  
Slaine jumped, fingers curling slightly and eyes narrowing slightly. ‘You’re intercepting my phone calls?’  
  
‘Not just your phone calls. I’m monitoring Asseylum’s, Saazbaum’s and Darzana’s as well.’ Inaho said in a deadpan, eliciting some reaction and a few sighs from the aforementioned people.  
  
‘And that somehow makes it better?’ Slaine could have been more outraged. His response fell below expectations.   
  
 ‘I was curious if the two of you were in close communication. It’s a shame you weren’t. But Saazbaum, you knew Doctor Troyard well, didn’t you?’  
  
‘I did.’  
  
‘Is he still alive? Either this version or our version.’  
  
The Count didn’t reply.  
  
‘Saazbaum, this is important. Far more important than your life debts, perceived or otherwise.’   
  
When Saazbaum replied, his voice was terse. ‘Yes, he is still alive. Our Universe’s. Since I didn’t have the opportunity to meet this universe’s one. Perhaps it could have been an imposter.’  
  
‘But you didn’t even think to mention that to me, not even once?’ Slaine said quietly, feeling a little nauseous. ‘He was the only person that I had, other than the Princess.’  
  
‘I made a promise -‘  
  
Slaine interrupted him. ‘But you had so many opportunities to tell me when we were travelling on the TARDIS! How long have you known that he was alive? How long have you been keeping this from me?’  
  
‘The funeral was your father’s idea. He believed that if nobody knew that he was alive, he could pursue his research of Aldnoah in peace without the Emperor’s interference.’  
  
‘Was Count Cruhteo’s my father’s idea?’ Slaine asked.  
  
‘No.’ It came a beat too late.   
  
‘Don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare lie to me on this matter, Saazbaum.’ Slaine wasn’t crying, but his voice was shaking. The concept of a betrayal from one of the closest people in his life he believed he could trust shook him to the core.   
  
 ‘What I want to know is whether or not Doctor Troyard could have been the one running time experiments.’ The Doctor said, tapping one lip thoughtfully.  
  
‘Perhaps. Troyard was certainly passionate about his technology and his findings. He saw his son’s Activation Factor as the crowning achievement of his work.’  
  
An achievement, not a person, Slaine thought. Why. Why me? Asseylum saw his expression and laid a comforting hand over his shoulder.  
  
Krachkoff spoke then. ‘I have reason to believe that Troyard headed the research project in duplicating the effects of the TARDIS with Aldnoah. While Saazbaum’s counterpart was relatively secretive about the details-‘  
  
‘You left before he arrived,’ Orlane said to Saazbaum. ‘I’ve seen him come in and out of this room.’   
  
The side of his mouth twitched down. ‘And I’d expect nothing more than success from one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met in my life. Troyard will be a dangerous opponent.’ The Count acknowledged.   
  
‘Then it’s settled,’ The Doctor said grimly. ‘Liv and Asseylum, you to help me while I run a trace on the phone,’ He told Inaho. ‘We’ll find the origin of the signal. I suspect that Troyard’s interference is part of the reason why we crashed here in the first place.’  
  
‘It isn’t necessary. Saazbaum isn’t the only who has been keeping secrets.’ Liv admitted. ‘My investigations have revealed that the entire planet is sliced in half by a temporal field so intense that it is having some interesting distortions on the weather, geography and history. Radiating from one singular point.’  
  
‘Tanegshima.’   
  



	64. Timeline

_From Anathema to Ordifica, the Faction spread out the corners of their influence. Each colony was created with a different intent. The Remote, for example, were set up as shock-troopers, to surprise the Houseworld. And Mars was as close to Eleven Day Empire spatially as one dared to get._ – The Second War in Heaven  
  
His body seized up. Images, no memories, flashed through his head. Each beat of his heart brought a fresh wave of agony.  
  
Eyes seeing, but yet unseeing.   
  
Pain, he was being shot through the skull and reliving it. He saw a blue planet he didn’t recognise, silver like alien entrails coiling in the sky. The surface of a planet lit by no sun. Somewhere peaceful. Beijing, surrounded by cages. Faces, of people he knew. Faces of people he didn’t recognise. Memories, stabbed him from under his skin. They poured in through his mouth as he choked, causing his pupils to shrink. They filled his nostrils as he began to panic.  
  
He was being –  
  
Then, abrupt calm. Quietude even.   
  
The sky above was blood red, buildings the colour of majestic silver.   
  
‘Saazbaum,’ A voice said. ‘Saazbaum, if you don’t come now you’ll miss the bus.’  
  
It was Rayet. She wore her white hoodie up to ward off the rain. He creased his eyebrow in faint annoyance, tucking the newspaper he was carrying under one arm after folding it up.   
  
‘What?’  
  
‘I said, would you please stop doing that with your shadow. It’s really beginning to creep me out.’ She said, gritting her teeth. Thunder boomed and rain speckled but didn’t touch them as if it met an invisible barrier but he felt the chill anyway.   
  
He looked downwards and saw that his shadow was holding an umbrella in his right hand, although his actual hand was holding nothing. He independently moved his shadow’s arm up and eased his grip on the umbrella. To his surprise, the action came as naturally as breathing. He simply willed his shadow to do it… and it happened. The instant it vanished from the shadow’s grasp it reverted back to its original state, appearing with a clunk on the ground at his feet. Physical and coloured.  
  
This time, the rain lashed their heads.  
  
‘And yet, it’s far more efficient and useful.’ he felt prompted to explain, ‘Imagine an army carrying a whole artillery in your shadow. Insubstantial. Light. We’d never have to worry about being attacked again.’  
  
Rayet looked at him, eyes like flint, then with a degree of wariness, picked the umbrella up from the floor. She shook a few droplets and opened it. It blossomed spectacularly.  
  
Almost…  
  
Almost like the lotus shape of a landing castle. She blinked and finally answered. Her voice carried a lack of emotion. Flat. Colourless. ‘What you’re doing with the rest of the Faction, it’s an abomination.’   
  
‘They made this technology. Gave us a place to live.’  
  
Rayet shook her head, then moved her weight onto her right foot. The movement produced a crunching sound like the breaking of bone on the gravel. ‘We’re just another colony world to them,’ she said, dispirited. ‘Like the one on Anathema. Just closer to home, so we can keep an eye on Earth for them.’  
  
‘What are they planning?’  
  
She shook her head morosely. ‘You should pack me a bento next time. I’m not fond of sandwiches.’   
  
‘A single clue would suffice.’ This time she looked at him. Actually looked.  
  
‘You’re talking like that again.’ She said, then bent over her lunchbox. She removed the sandwich wrap and took a bite, chewed then swallowed. He waited impatiently, nostrils flared. He did all he could do to stop himself tapping his foot until she next made her reply. ‘It makes you sound old, you should stop doing that.’  
  
He tried a different approach. ‘Who should I talk to?’  
  
‘Ask Doctor Troyard.’ She threw up her hands. ‘There, are you happy now?’  
  
He was standing, waiting for the bus so he could visit Orlane. It was very, very quiet and he never once realised that he was all alone and there was nobody beside him.   
  



	65. Suspicion

_Lolita, Lolita swallowed the Empire_  
 _Made all the colonists run._  
 _They cursed and they spat,_  
 _They were forced to backtrack,_  
 _And all of the plans came undone._  
\-- A rhyme for Time Tots (Shelved alongside Every Gallifreyan Child’s Pop-Up Book of Nasty Creatures From Other Dimensions and Snow White and the Seven Keys to Doomsday.)  
  
He groaned. With some effort, he cracked open one eye. Rayet was standing down at him pointing a gun at him. She exuded wariness and distrust. Behind her stood Darzana who was peering at him with an expression which he read as concern, although it was quickly overwritten with something more neutral.  
  
He internally froze when he realised that his opinions were being informed by the other Saazbaum’s memories. His other friends considered these people as allies. No, more than that. As friends. Some of the impressions had already faded, but a few lingered. Still usable and intelligible.  
  
He slowly closed the eye, feigning weakness. Some of the liquid of the dart had wet his clothing and he suspected that not all of it had ended up him as was probably intended. Inside his mind, a plan was forming.  
  
‘As I was saying, Viceroy, Rayet has been charged with guarding you. Currently, you are our prisoner and any attempt to escape will be met with resistance.’  
  
‘Understood.’ He said, weakly. ‘Where am I?’  
  
‘You were unconscious after our attack,’ Darzana said. ‘We pulled you from the bridge as a section of it had collapsed.’  
  
Recollection hit him rapidly. The blue lightning. The betrayal. The set up. He remembered all of it. There had been no collapse, though if he undoubtedly went back up to the bridge there was a faked one waiting there for him. These Terran and his other self thought him defeated, thought his memories gone.   
  
Besalier, Orlane, Dioscuria and the conquest of the Earth, everything had been stolen from him. The burning hatred began welling up from him again, but he quieted it, knowing that no good would come of losing his temper now.   
  
He’d been defeated, yes, but he would have his revenge and he allowed an internal smile. All in due course.   
  
For now he would act the part, letting out a feeble groan. Darzana left eventually with some reluctance. His other self’s memory informed him that the last time he’d been alone with the girl she had nearly killed him and the woman felt responsible. They also reflected positively on the boy, Calm, who stood in the corner, so it was to him that he addressed his next request.   
  
Best to act quickly, then.   
  
‘Could I have some water?’ He said, voice hoarse. The girl’s eyes had a little sympathy before anger fell like a sledgehammer into her eyes.   
‘Sure,’ the blond haired boy said, smiling a little. ‘I’ll grab a jug for you. Chilled?’  
  
‘Calm,’ Rayet warned. Dangerous. ‘He’s not your friend. He’s the enemy.’  
  
‘I know, I know,’ Calm said, ‘I’ll grab Salsa some water.’  
  
Rayet wanted to retort, but Calm left before she could insist that she do it.  
  
It was then that he felt … something… huge. It wasn’t like his other self’s memories travelling down from the point of contact, burning into his synapses through his central nervous system. Instead, it was a tidal wave of agony crashing into his head.  
  
I’ve felt this before, he realised, as the memory of one self connected with his own. I felt this in the TARDIS. He seized the floor, gasping out loud, before he smothered the reaction. I will not fall unconscious, I will not fall unconscious! He thought with ferocity.  
  
And just like that it passed. His posture sagged in relief.  
  
‘Saazbaum?’ In spite of everything, the girl looked concerned. Even guilty. Perhaps the attempted murder had affected her more than she outwardly showed.  He let his head fall back in a slump, dissembling far more tiredness than he felt, turning disadvantage into advantage.  
  
‘It hurts,’ He whispered, injecting pain into his voice. The emotion felt foreign, it had long since passed. But the girl didn’t know that, did she? To her eyes, he had only just collapsed. A briefly opened eye indicated that the girl had approached close, forgetting her earlier anger in the favour of anxiety.  
  
He hated… that pity. But perhaps it was usable. He hated those memories, his other self was a sentimental fool who preferred to block Earth and Mars communications ineffectually rather than claiming what was his right. And yet, both were exploitable.  
  
Then hesitating, she tucked her firearm into her belt, with a small sigh. ‘Show me what’s wrong with you.’ He let out a small whimper, which finally and visibly encouraged her to think that he, was no danger to her.   
  
It was a fatal mistake. Her eyes widened.   
  
He lunged first, startling her.   
  
Although he had the advantage of height and weight, the struggle with his other self, the lingering vestiges of the drugs and the immediate aftereffects of whatever shock had just affected him had drained most of his stamina.   
Compared to him, Rayet, who had been trained in physical combat was still comparatively fresh. She’d presumably been piloting one of the Terran Kats and hadn’t the opportunity to tire.  
  
They wrestled over the gun. She tried to punch him but he grabbed her hand, stopping the blow the tendons popping out in his wrist with the effort.   
  
‘I am not going to lose to a rat like you,’ He snarled. ‘I will deal with you first. Then the duplicate children will join their originals in the afterlife, since my other self clearly lacks the wisdom to finish the task by himself.’  
  
‘You bastard. I trusted you once and I am not about to repeat that mistake.’ She gasped thickly and tried to knee him in the groin, but it didn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he tried to pull her towards him, but she skittered on the ground moving with both legs to resist the movement forwards. In response, he simply tried to heave harder, drawing upon upper body strength and building momentum from where his legs were anchored to the ground.  
  
She maintained her position for a few seconds, then abruptly, stopped resisting. She fell forward onto him and he tumbled backwards from the weight, hitting the floor back first in a tangle of limbs, but not before she pulled the gun clean out of his grasp.  
  
Her knees resting across his shoulders, she pivoted her arm so that the muzzle of the gun was aimed at his forehead at point blank     range. He moved his fingers a little to reach for her ankles, but he stopped, relaxing his fingers when she increased the pressure of the gun on his forehead.  
  
‘I win.’ She said, dismissively, from where she was effectively sitting on him. Still he smiled, taunting her.   
  
She was about to retort lividly and with blows but Calm had returned.   
  
 ‘I came back with the water. Um Rayet?’  
  
She looked up when he said his name. In a flash, the Viceroy had rolled over on to his side. The bastard. She yelped as her weight was displaced, pitching to the right. Abruptly, she found herself pinned to the ground on the wrong end of the gun.   
  
‘How does it feel, child, to fall for the same deception twice in a row?’ He said. Arrogantly. She was swamped with the urge to punch that look off his smug face.  
  
 Calm, meanwhile had pointed his gun at Saazbaum’s head. ‘Ok.’ He said slowly, ‘Put your gun away, and step away from Rayet or I’ll be left with no choice except to put a bullet in your head.’   
  
The Viceroy shook his head, humoured. ‘You overestimate yourself, Calm. Get to your feet, Rayet. We are going on a relaxing stroll.’ When she didn’t respond, he yanked her up by the neck, causing her eyes to flare with humiliation and temper. She was her mother’s child and he knew that she wouldn’t give up.  
  
‘Get your filthy hands off me!’ She yelled, but took the hint and reluctantly moved forward at gunpoint.  
  
‘You will let us go,’ The Viceroy told Calm, sneering slightly. ‘You will not alert the guards, will you boy, out of fear for your friend?’  
  
‘Calm, please don’t do this,’ Rayet begged.   
  
Calm’s eyes burned, but he did not respond. It was only once they had traipsed out of the door that he dropped the gun to the floor and let himself shed real tears.  
  



	66. Co-operation

_For the final time, I am not retrieving that Time Ring. Recall wisely the events on Ramosa and how it was your infighting and meddling which directly contributed to the escape of our fugitive and not my doings? Perhaps if you had a little more trust in our operatives – past, present and future – we would be a little more effective._ – Address by the Celestial Intervention Agency Co-ordinator  
   
Once they were out of the door, the Viceroy abandoned all pretence of dignity and ran. Which, much to Rayet’s displeasure, involved running ahead of him as his hostage so he could conveniently keep his gun raised at her back. Unfortunately for her, his legs and strides were longer and covered more distance so before long she was winded and exhausted, struggling to keep the pace, although he wasn’t in much of a better situation.   
  
Despite the fact that his nose had been reset, she noticed that he was bleeding again, when they stuttered to a halt to a halt. He glared at her, holding his nose gingerly as if she was the sole person responsible for the fact that he had been bruised by his fiancée, shot by an alternate version of himself and drugged.   
  
‘I said to turn right at the next doorway, not to turn left,’ he sniped. Vexed, as if he couldn’t comprehend how an instruction so simple could be misunderstood.  
  
Rayet retorted, smarting, ‘Excuse you, I wasn’t the one asking to be dragged along with genocidal maniac. I’m exhausted and tired and every part of this stupid situation is your fault.’   
  
‘Be silent.’ He ordered, surveying the area. In spite of the frankly dangerous tone he used, Rayet stifled a giggle as with his uniform askew he looked like a particularly pompous chicken.  ‘If you are lagging behind on purpose I’ll be forced to drag you with me.’  
  
‘And if I’m not?’  
  
‘Then I will be forced to carr-kill you.’ He stifled the phrase, swapping it for the correct one just in time. It was possibly a left over his other self, but he had no time for musings now. He honed on those borrowed memories now, focussing on a possible means of escape.   
  
He took off again at a jog, deciding that the brief respite was over. This time he adopted a more considerate pace for Rayet, although that wasn’t how he justified the reasoning.   
  
‘You’re the one lagging,’ She told him. This time, she only bothered to keep abreast as if it were a marathon they were running. ‘If you aren’t careful you’ll shoot yourself in the eye by accident because of fatigue.’   
  
Her words only caused his scowl to deepen. ‘Please keep your unsolicited advice to yourself,’ he said, waving the gun a little as a threat.  
  
‘Mhhmm,’ Rayet observed. ‘Since the safety is off, at this rate you’ll take your head off by accident, saving me the trouble of killing you.’  
  
‘Shut up,’ was his only response, but he did cease motioning with it unnecessarily. His younger self’s recollections suggested that the Doctor had gone but Liv had carried an independent time travel device. He saw the image of ring which he’d originally assumed was an accessory in his mind’s eye.  
  
There was shouting and running feet. He swore, then towed Rayet into the lower prison cells of the Landing Castle then moved across to one of the storage rooms where the prisoner’s belongings were kept. He simply rested one hand on the black slate to open the door. Inside were plastic boxes of many sizes and his eyes raked across some of the most recent possessions seized resting on tables.  
  
Footsteps rounded the corner. He pulled Rayet in closer and jammed the gun to the side of her neck, causing her to squirm in irritation.   
  
Darzana appeared in the doorway, silhouetted in light like a fiery corona.  He hadn’t the chance to turn on the lights, but through the gap flooded light. His eyes alighted on a small object occupying the top shelf, it glinted like black-brown metal.  
  
‘Unhand Rayet,’ Darzana said calmly. ‘And we’ll return you to your holding place. Nobody needs to get hurt.’ Escape was excruciatingly close. Could he use it the ring to track down the Doctor?  
  
Her soldiers took a step closer. ‘Call your men off, or I shall separate Rayet’s head from her neck.’ He gave a meaningful pause, one arm still wrapped around her shoulders. The girl wasn’t quaking at all.  
  
One man took a tentative step forward, causing Darzana to raise her voice. For reasons that he completely escaped him, he pushed Rayet forward and shot below the Colonel’s kneecaps, calling the woman to yell in outrage, rather than shooting the two of them directly in the head. Circumstance favoured him. Coincidentally, both would have offered him an equally effective distraction.  
  
He then clambered onto the table in a single bound, heedless of the items which rolled and crashed to the ground.  
  
So close.  
  
His fingers shot out to reach for the metal-  
  
Just as Rayet’s fingers closed around his coattails. He almost groaned. ‘I’m coming with you,’ She said bluntly.  
  
Magbaredge and her soldiers watched the two people blink out of existence in silence.  
  



	67. Ontology

_When I turned around, all I saw were the heads of my friends atop pikes. Crude and medieval, they sat, weeping blood. Where is the pride of progress in our greatest hour of need?_   – Excerpts from the War   
  
The Viceroy reappeared. One minute there was nobody and another minute his atoms reassembled like vapour given form. He gagged at the stench of burning corpses. The ring crumbled into nothing.  
  
‘So that’s how it is,’ he said to himself, then lifted his eyes up.  
  
This was-  
  
Hell come to Earth. A landscape of nightmarish proportions, of pits of fire erupted from crevasses in the earth, warped out of all proportion by waves of gravity. It burned in orange and yellow so bright it left afterimages in his vision.  
  
Reflexively, his fingers went to his eyes. They were already smudged with soot, he noticed, but when he withdrew his hand he felt dampness come away. Tears. They wet the ground he was standing on.  
  
His shoulders shook as he kneeled, the gun he hadn’t realised he was holding fell from his slack grip into the rock solid soil.  
  
Orlane. But she was alive. Then why was he crying?   
  
A hand darted to pick up the gun and before he completely understood what was happening, two slender arms closed around his waist and hauled him back none too gently just before a plume of fire entirely obliterated the area he had just been resting upon.  
  
Rayet. ‘Is Heaven’s fall seriously your idea of a perfect holiday destination, Viceroy? I suggest you give some actual thought to where you are escaping too next time.’ She yelled at him as a chunk of rock fell from the sky and wiped out a large part of the landscape.  
  
‘I had.. I thought?’ He said, bewildered, clearly in shock.   
  
Rayet shook her head impatiently. ‘The thing you used to bring us here, bring us back you moron! Now!’  
  
‘It vanished when I arrived.’  
  
‘You landed us in this place… With no way of getting back?’ She looked fit to explode and was still holding the gun, but was still present enough to avoid a tongue of flame which lashed as it appeared behind her.    
  
‘I told it to follow the Doctor,’ he protested. ‘I had no idea that it would disappear!’  
  
‘Well clearly, you’ve taken us to the right place and the wrong time.’ She snapped.  
  
 They walked along the hellburnt plain for a while in silence. At one point, to his horror, she brought out her phone and after discovering it worked perfectly though there was no signal, plugged in a pair of earphones she’d brought with her into the headphone jack and turned the volume up to 60%.   
  
At one point, his eyes fastened directly on the distance where a faint patch of light seemed to glow eerily. The rock there was jagged, shrapnel littering the ground. It was metallic, something had been wrecked there and the larger portion of it had been wedged underneath where the earth had separated.   
  
‘You Martians. Complicating everything. The more complicated something is, the more ways it can go wrong.’ She shook her head.   
  
He ran, feeling a wave of irrational fear, ignoring the fire and ruined debris in the sky. The light, it was the light of Aldnoah seeping from Orlane’s ruined machine, indicating that she was still alive. For now.    
  
‘The heart, for instance. How do you reason with a person who is so emotional that they won’t listen to anything else?’ She removed her earbuds, unhooking them deftly, seeing what he was seeing.   
  
Yes, now he’d looked carefully, he could definitely make out part of the head of the machine from the rest of chasm. When he reached the puckered lip of the gash in the earth he realised it was far deeper than he’d anticipated. Rayet caught up shortly, hands tucked expertly into the single front pouch of her hoodie.  
  
‘Orlane.’ He whispered. Down in the chasm, his eyes could make out a single injured form half trapped in the ruined machine. Dark patches jutted like trickling wings from where the metal of the Kataphrakt pierced below the shoulder blades.   
  
The impact had created jagged shelves in the rocks from the impact. He began sliding down, lowering himself over the edge and clung to it. A few drops of the sweat dripped down his hair and onto his nose as parts of the shelf crumbled as he fumbled his way across it.   
  
It brought back a few unpleasant memories of trying and failing at mountaineering. Climbing and upper arm strength had never been his forte and even with gear, he had frequently crashed into rocks while bouldering and fallen while traversing. His military instructor had advised him to give mountains a wide berth and to hope that he had a Kataphrakt nearby, evidently annoyed by the trend of admitting physically inept Orbital Knights into service.  
  
‘I should kill you now.’ The girl was saying. ‘I have a very bad feeling about this. You’re changing history. Interfering with it, even. God, maybe it was your actions which crashed the Doctor’s TARDIS here in the first place.’  
  
He took another glance down and swallowed. The sharp rocks would make unpleasantly short work pulverising him if he fell, he knew.   
  
‘I am indebted to you for saving my life earlier.’ He said nonchalantly. ‘Without your actions I would have perished much earlier.’  
  
‘Damn right you would have,’ Rayet muttered. ‘And I have many regrets. For example, the fact that I will never collect your ashes as an interesting souvenir item.’  
  
‘Barbaric.’ He muttered.  
  
‘Nothing more barbaric than what you did to my family.’ she said, baring her teeth. Oh, if only she knew.  
  
‘So, you will deny my this one set of altruistic actions? Orlane is already alive in any case, so the effects are already being felt in the present.’  
  
All Martians are the enemy. Goddamnit. Even within that subset, she was discovering that some were more tolerable than this tedious one in front of her. And the Doctor’s first blithely cheerful reply to that statement was – which Mars?, cheerfully embellishing his story with numerous different versions of the same planet, different timezones, different populations either a billion years in the past or a billion years in the future and different species at different times in occupation. He’d asked whether her description applied to every planet named Mars or if it only the ones named that in English.   
  
So she paused. Bitter. ‘Who wouldn’t want their loved to come back to life? That’s not altruism, that’s self centeredness. You’re just far too narrow-minded to tell the difference.’ Still, she landed lightly next to him, though he half expected her to push him. ‘I hope you have a plan of getting her back up because it’s going to be a difficult climb.’  
  



	68. Troyard

Martians were the same as Terrans in the same way that fowl and fish were both animals, one superior to the other in the food chain. – Visionaries in Arms  
  
He knocked on the shelter. It was more like a primitive hut, constructed from wood and concrete. Inside, a man was tapping away. His glasses had thick lenses and while he stooped he was of a medium height and build.  
  
Unlike the Doctor Troyard that Saazbaum knew, this one was younger. His hair wasn’t yet grey and fewer lines touched his face. He pushed his chair back tiredly when he saw the strangers. The taller of them stooped to enter the hut holding something.  
  
It was a person. Laceration damage had torn the flesh and bones were visible underneath the serrated wounds. Internal haemorrhaging was visible under the skin where the uniform had been pushed and broken aside.  
  
Troyard adjusted his glasses with nervous fingers, pushing them back up to the nose by the bridge.  
  
‘Please’ the taller one said in a piercing voice. His face looked faintly familiar, though it was a little too dark to make out the details. ‘I rescued her from a chasm. Nearby. It must have been the impact from Heaven’s Fall. She needs immediate medical assistance.’  
  
‘Good god. Lay her on the table and try not to move her.’ Troyard said faintly, ‘I’ll get a tourniquet, bandages and water. I won’t be long.’  
  


* * *

  
‘We need to go,’ Rayet said. ‘Before he returns.’  
  
The Viceroy had paused, still looking at Orlane’s still form.  
  
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ the girl continued sharply, ‘Get a grip, we’re stuck in the past. You can’t stay here and make friends with Troyard before you’ve met him. It’s dangerous enough being here.’  
  
Her words finally snapped him out of it. He joined her outside wordlessly.  
  
The conditions hadn’t changed or improved much since they’d left. It was still hellishly hot and every now and then fire would spew from the ground, drizzling the surrounding rocks in molten ore which would eat them away like acid.  
  
‘So why even come?’ He asked her. ‘Knowing that we might never return?’  
  
She gave a short laugh then plonked herself on a nearby rock which wasn’t bubbling or looked particularly prone to exploding. It was pleasantly warm, though it left a smidge of blackness on her clothes. ‘There’s nothing for me there. Not now. No home, no family. So you got exactly what you wanted. ’  
  
‘I’m hardly gloating.’ He told her. ‘And as for my fate, I’m resigned to it.’ I think I’ve gone and repeated your mistakes, Besalier. He thought. There were so many things he wanted to say, on this edge of hell. But he said none of it.  
  
Instead, he picked himself up nimbly and walked through the infernal haze. The heat and the fumes were making him feel nauseous and it had worsened the longer he lingered. He paused, the lights flickered.  
  
His vision cleared.  
  
Almost like-

Spheres, the inside of a machine like half the TARDIS had been extracted and the walls filled with Aldnoah drives. So many of them that they filled the walls like pearls, not placed haphazardly but side by side like grown embryos, to fit in the maximum possible number in the limited space.  
  
‘Isn’t this a touching reunion?’ Troyard’s voice echoed from where he stood next to his creation. The man actually sauntered, hands in his laboratory pockets.  
  
An older version. His version. Saazbaum’s shoulders relaxed. ‘So you can return us to the Landing Castle if the time machine you’ve built is functional. Come, Rayet.’  
  
‘You’ve really gone and messed it up this time, Viceroy,’ Rayet said. She didn’t budge and her fingers were clenched around the trigger of the gun. Directed at Troyard’s head.  
  
‘Like I said,’ Troyard said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘A touching family reunion. Any last words for your biological daughter, milord? I knew you’d come for Orlane. However, I only need one of you for the drives and I have no doubt which of you is easier to manipulate. ’  
  
‘Oh you have got to be kidding me…’ Rayet shouted. Troyard had whipped out a handgun.  
  
She squeezed the trigger. It produced no effect, the gun clicked emptily. ‘Sorry, I only need one of you in the drives.’ Troyard stressed ironically.  
  
She rounded on Saazbaum. His only response was to shove her back the way they came. ‘Go on without me!’ He ordered.  
  
She shook her head. ‘You idiot.’ But she scampered as she was told.  
  
Doctor Troyard watched the familial display with an air of amusement. He checked his wristwatch. _Sixteen seconds._ ‘Unlike yourself, I briefed my double on the necessary course of action beforehand. He believes that I’m a visitation from the future, providing him guidance on what needs to be done. A quaint notion.’  
  
‘Is this treachery, Troyard?’ Saazbaum spat. ‘Destroying time to suit your own ends?’  
  
 _Eight seconds._  
  
‘Oh you know, the ends justify the means like in your philosophy or all the crap you spout. We’re no different. Only my ends are a little grander. I plan to put Slaine on the throne. Of the universe.’  
  
‘Then why not activate the drives yourself? Give yourself an activation factor?’  
  
‘I find the time sensitivity to be a rather large Achilles heel.’ He checked his wristwatch again. Both Rayet and the Viceroy had succumbed to the time surge as predicted. Perfectly on cue. She hadn’t gotten far.  
  
He shook his head. The ancients had aspired to bring themselves closer to the gods through Aldnoah. They had aspired to become Lords of Time and yet they had only managed to humiliate themselves by falling so short.  
  



	69. Ends

_We got very creative during the war, I have to admit. Acts of rebellion against the Martians could include anything from making Vers flags out of jam to pissing on (and consequently setting on fire) Vers flags. Mind you, we’d salute a conquerors whenever we’d come across one on a street, but the instant they were out of sight we’d begin laughing at them. The punishments were severe and could include lashings, but it was always worth it, a sign that no matter how much we were beaten or humiliated, we would never give up our spirit._ – Excerpts from the War  
  
The TARDIS was pouring smoke and the Doctor had only barely managed to move the reluctant ship a distance in space rather than time. They’d left Krachkoff and Liv behind with Darzana’s crew but Orlane had insisted on coming.  
  
It was foreboding, like the ship hadn’t wanted to come to Tanegshima anyway. They’d been forced to commandeer a UEF helicopter to make the rest of the distance. Inaho had piloted them.    
  
The Doctor had sensed something about this place and it made him more jittery than normal, though it was difficult to tell since he rarely stopped moving.   
  
‘Kind of dark for a centre dedicated to science,’ Slaine said. Or that’s what it had said on the plaque outside anyway. Bristol had certainly chosen a fairly odd place to fund in the middle of nowhere, with no tourists or any other interested parties save the military to attract. Except the ghosts, he shivered. Still, it sported a visible brass telescope and an upper level to observe the night sky.  
  
Or that had been the intention. According to some of the UEF people the place had been built then abandoned a few years ago, making it relatively new. The Doctor had brought a flashlight. Slaine wished he had brought several. It was just too dark and streams of dust floated through the air.   
  
The reception area opened into a fairly large foyer. Thankfully, they could see further than their nose as it was significantly lighter, the panelling allowing natural light to enter.  
  
‘Stained glass,’ The Doctor said pointing. The dust still swirled, an unsettling painting of moving parts.   
  
‘It lets in the light.’ Orlane said.  She was looking at the floor. Saazbaum was beside her, crouched. ‘During the night, I assume that it would be flooded with the downlights. It would make other sources of illumination difficult to distinguish.’  
  
The Doctor, meanwhile, had located an electronics cabinet. He flicked on his screwdriver and ran it down the edges, before opening it.  
  
‘No wires.’ He said, thoughtfully.  
  
‘Aldnoah?’ Slaine and Inaho said at the same time.   
  
Slaine leapt up, but Saazbaum said, ‘A moment, if you will. The patterns on this floor look Versian. And it’s indented.’ He traced one of the lines briefly. One machinelike line travelled horizontally and bent downwards, separating the floor.   
  
He knocked it with his knuckles. It rang with a hollow tone.   
  
Orlane peered at it. ‘I think there’s something down there. Doctor, could you shift it?’  
   
‘I don’t think he can.’ Asseylum called. ‘There is a groove along the sides of this chamber. I think that if the floor is withdrawn, we’ll end up falling in.’  
  
‘Could we stand outside in the hallway while the Doctor sonics the floor?’ Inaho wanted to know.   
  
Slaine, meanwhile had wandered back to the door. He rested one hand on the doorhandle.  
  
‘Slaine?’ Asseylum asked. The boy had gone as white as a sheet. Rigid.   
  
‘I think this was a really bad idea. We’re locked in.’ He fretted. There was a very deep bonerattling rumble as the ground shifted. All the lines on the floor lit up.   
  
‘Asseylum!’ Slaine shouted, horrified as her foot missed ground and instead shot into the newly formed empty space. Saazbaum caught one of her flailing arms dragging her back from the edge as the circular room split into two halves. It succeeded, at least temporarily.   
  
‘Doctor, stop sonicking the floor,’ Orlane ordered.  
  
‘That isn’t my doing,’ The Time Lord protested. ‘I’m trying to reverse the movement but it seems like a mechanism is stuck. I can buy us a few minutes but-’  
  
Inaho surveyed the area. ‘We stand close to the gap in the centre of the room.’ He decided. ‘It will buy us the most time because the edges floor which used to form the centre of the circle have to move the furthest distance to bump us off.’   
  
Slaine looked around wildly. His eyes seized on the cabinet that the Doctor had opened. ‘The cabinet isn’t moving. We could climb onto that. There must be an external support structure holding it to the walls, maybe girders.’  
  
‘The ceiling is too far up. Maybe the Doctor could shatter the glass panes of the windows.’ Inaho replied.  
  
‘There’s a helicopter outside.’ Slaine frantically took his phone out and speed dialled the UEF number. ‘Come on, come on!’  
  
The phone lit up green, causing the boy to relax a little, before he heard the voice on the other end. It was a quiet voice which he instantly recognised. ‘Slaine, as always you have fairly inspiring, but I’m afraid that in this case you won’t find any assistance there.’  
  
Slaine looked on in horror as the floor began to invert, the edges beginning to tilt downwards like two shrinking levers of an enormous pinball machine. Fear made his eyes wide. His fingers found the button to end the call.   
  
On the other side, the Doctor, Inaho and Orlane had made it as close to the upper side of the wall as possible, near the cabinet.   
  
On their side, Asseylum had only managed to crawl up a quarter of the way before the floor angle had abruptly changed. She hung onto the glowing indents.   
  
The angle increased, causing Asseylum to slip. She let out a muffled scream.   
  
‘Although,’ Doctor Troyard’s voice continued calmly, despite the fact that Slaine had already ended the call. ‘I look forward to meeting you again. It has been a while since we last spoke.’  
  
Apparently, that was the last straw for Slaine, who threw the device across the room. It hit the wall, smashing the screen but distorted warbling continued issuing from the device’s speakers.   
  
Deep down in the centre of the institute, Troyard chuckled at his son’s response. He turned to face his two prisoners. Both the Viceroy and Rayet were strapped to white operating tables in the sterile room and electrodes ran from their temples and down their arms to connect to two adjacent spheres sitting side by side. One of which, the girl’s, was already glowing.   
  
Rayet offered no resistance, when he thumbed open one of her eyelids with one free gloved hand. The violet irises were intact, but the pupils had vanished completely. He released his grip and her head lolled back, then stripped off his gloves by the fingertips, tossing them into the bin which lay by his workbench.  
  
Saazbaum, apparently, had outlasted his relative in endurance and glared at him with cloudy brown eyes. ‘I’m going to kill you,’ he rasped.   
  
‘So, you still possess hope. Allow me to take that from you. You will be joining Rayet soon as an energy source as I need far more Aldnoah drives than I can steal. Inside the sphere, you may find rebellion a difficult concept to remember, assuming that your consciousness survives. Your other self is unfortunately hanging off the edge of a pit, quite literally. I will deal with the nuisance known as the Doctor shortly.’  
  
‘Your plan… it will never work.’  
  
‘It already has. Remember the fate of Slaine and the Princess.’ He leaned over Saazbaum’s form. ‘They weren’t quite dead after what you did to them. Their fate was your fault. Inaho I couldn’t use because he lacked a factor.’  
  
The Viceroy clenched his teeth. ‘Filling your human menagerie. These ideas of yours are inhumane, repulsive… If I had known…’  
  
‘Aldnoah drives were always alive in some capacity. I’m sorry if you didn’t already know.’ Troyard shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Goodbye and sweet dreams.’  
  
There was no reply, the eyes were already closed.  
  



	70. Fate

_Diluted Validium, the thinking metal, makes the mind, cribbed, bound and confined so only the faintest trace can influence the external world._ – Partly translated Martian inscription. A computational analysis confirms that the metal was cut and pressed by machine as each surface of the imprint is flat to an atomic level.    
  
This time Slaine charged downwards, feet skidding as he moved to reach her. He slid past Saazbaum, his hand shot over the side just in time to hold Asseylum’s whose descent over the precipice was halted abruptly, although her head was still dangling a little beneath what had been the floor.  
  
 ‘This probably isn’t the time,’ She said, catching her breath, ‘But I love you Slaine.’  
  
‘I love you too,’ he told her.   
  
Saazbaum spoiled the moment.  
  
‘Well whilst we are confessing our innermost feelings for each other, I thought I might as well join in. My hatred for you is too immense to put into words, Slaine.’ Saazbaum had grasped hold of Slaine’s right ankle during the plunge so that the trio formed a human chain, though he was noticeably losing ground. ‘For thwarting my best laid plans and recklessly charging into danger.’  
  
Slaine merely smiled, but there was the thin veneer of steel underneath it. Bad memories lingered. ‘I couldn’t have done anything without the Tharsis you left me.’  
  
‘Acknowledged. But your actions were your own.’   
  
‘You left me the knife, but forgot to test the edge.’   
  
‘Well. As insolent as ever, I see.’ Although the words were lighthearted, there was a noticeable strain in Saazbaum’s voice as he struggled to haul them up.  
  
‘Boys.’ Asseylum said. ‘Could we please leave the reminiscing until afterwards? The view is fairly superb but the height isn’t much too my liking.’  
  
Slaine looked dubiously downwards. ‘If there is an afterwards.’   
  
The floor tilted a fraction more and they plunged through the air, infinitesimal motes of dust spinning around as they fell through them into the maw.  
  



	71. Soylent

_Lucid dreaming – or dreaming whilst aware that one is dreaming - begins in the REM stage of sleep. It is accompanied by deactivation in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex of the brain, the area responsible for working memory._ – A Study of Dreams, Lowland institute.   
   
‘So, are you still suffering hallucinations? Visual and auditory disturbances?’ Areash asked. Try as he might, Saazbaum hadn’t been able to arrange a time with his usual psychiatrist Troyard which he had been seeing for as long as he’d been in the sprawling metropolis. He had taken the taxi and travelled up several floors to travel to the office with the window to floor window panes and the snug homely rugs and the massproduced tables.   
  
Some of the furniture hadn’t even been unwrapped yet.  
  
His last place of residence hadn’t been so busy or so large, although he was a little lost on how to describe the size. One minute he had been there and the next he had been smartly dressed, starched white shirt and dark pinstriped tie and shoes, pulling up on the curb.  
  
But still, it felt like he had been here forever. And it seemed that the only person he didn’t know well in this entire city was Areash. But who was he to question the qualifications of a child prodigy?   
  
‘I am still seeing shadows.’ He acknowledged. Candidly. ‘Is that a bad sign?’  
  
‘Hmph.’ She snorted. ‘Perhaps we’re all a little insane.’  
  
He blinked. ‘You mean, the forty hour work week? The struggles of a white collar worker, trying to climb up the rungs of the business industry?’  
  
‘A truly terrifying prospect for one of the more successful CEOs in the industry,’ She drawled. ‘What was your business again?’  
  
‘Is this even relevant? I can’t seem to… recall.’  
  
‘Twin Gemini? Energy corporation?’  
  
Ah yes. Now that he was prompted, the blank a few moments ago had cleared up. He straightened himself out. ‘We work with electricity, blackouts, within the city that sort of thing.’  
  
‘We? What do you do?’  
  
‘Well, to tell you the truth, I actually have no idea.’ The megalomaniac who had single handedly initiated the invasion of Earth and Mars and murdered her adoptive father and more looked at her blankly. She sighed inwardly. She was tempted to mess with his head a little more, but there didn’t seem to be any point, given the amnesia.   
  
Plus, there was the small matter of Troyard.  She’d have to end this as soon as possible.  
  
‘What is your purpose here?’  
  
Again, he relaxed. ‘We’re using the power grid to prevent an energy malfunction. Something… huge… something inimical is going to happen without our help.’  
  
It was like she had suspected. The mind, deprived of all familiar stimuli, was making its own explanations and excuses for the phenomena he was experiencing.   
  
‘And the place you were migrated from to come here, what was its name again?’  
  
‘Mars.’ He said, almost abruptly angry. ‘I still don’t see how your questioning is relevant to my mental status.’ His tone brooked no argument. And he clasped both of his hand in front of him on his knees.  
  
‘It has everything to do with your mental status.’ She said. ‘Is Mars a country, city, town…?’ Planet. She thought.  
  
He searched through his mind but every card which appeared to be an answer only turned up blanks. When he didn’t look, he had a vague idea, but the instant he actually focussed on a probable solution it vanished out of his grasp like a mirage. ‘It has to be a country.’ He said defensively. ‘Why can’t you ask the standard questions? Like about how I’ve been coping throughout the day.’  
  
‘I’m not interested in the lies you’ve already prepared.’ Rayet huffed.  
  
‘Are you accusing me of fabricating memories?’ He said, bristling. The nerve of this woman.   
  
‘Not deliberately, no. But the mind is a delicate thing.’ She picked up a child’s spinning top and spun it on the edge of her desk. It balanced there suspended perfectly on the point, red, yellow and green arcing through the air. ‘When it undergoes great trauma,’ she prodded it with one fingernail, causing the toy to spin out wildly, ‘it learns to adapt.’   
  
Saazbaum watched in silence as it made one circuit around her finger, wobbling dangerously and then smoothly regained balance, spinning hypnotically as if no interruption had ever occurred.   
  
‘This entire world,’ Rayet continued, ‘Is a coping mechanism invented by your mind.’  
  
‘That is the single most patently nonsensical suggestion, I have ever heard.’ He said, anger dancing on that composed expression. She rose. He shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll pay on the way out.’  
  
But she didn’t stop him. ‘What is the colour of the sky?’  
  
‘What? White, obviously.’ He snorted, derisively, proving that even an amnesiac Saazbaum was a handful in this simulated morning. But he still paused before the door.  
  
‘Well, isn’t that, in itself, strange? Wouldn’t it make more sense if the colour of the sky be blue or orange? Because…’ she said, matter of factly, shrugging. ‘White reminds me of the colour of an Aldnoah drive when it’s lit up.’  
  
He narrowed his eyes, feeling something cold crawl up his spine as he considered the things that were out of place. First the shadows with their hand like projections wriggling. And now this strange woman. ‘Look,’ he said, making an effort to be more courteous. ‘I really must be going. I mustn’t neglect my responsibilities.’  
  
‘Are those your responsibilities?’ She asked, ‘Or tasks set to you by Doctor Troyard?’  
  
‘Don’t be absurd…’ But he felt worry. She wasn’t a therapist, he was sure of that.  
  
‘Of course I’m not. A child prodigy? Really? I’m flattered that you think so.’ The slow, creeping smile on her face was all the more sinister when he considered the fact that he hadn’t voiced his thoughts out loud. ‘I’m here because I need you to remember. The real you. Not this boring do-gooder.’  
  
He shook his head, suddenly feeling ideas and memories that he wanted to avoid battering at his consciousness. ‘I have a feeling that I don’t want to remember,’ he whispered. ‘Because if I did, I think I would cease being me.’  
  
Rayet’s eyes were suddenly very, very tired for a person so young. She said nothing and after a brief while they watched. Outside, one by one the buildings peeled off the skyline, turning to fine particles of rainbow light, then the harbour and finally the room, the desks, the rugs, the ornaments and the windows.   
  
The spinning top was the last to go, it continued spinning until, it too, tipped over and dissipated into flecks of light. Which, one by one, winked out.   
  



	72. Regrets

_Descartes once famously said, “I think therefore I am”. It was not a statement of self-perception as revisionist culture implies, but an epistemological enterprise beginning with the knowledge that we are a ‘thinking being’. In other words, if we were to cast off our accumulated assumptions, we cannot be sure that what we perceive actually constitutes reality or even assume a correlation between ‘ourselves’ and the ‘world around us’._ – The Basis of Modern Philosophy  
  
Light curled out of the orb, twining up Saazbaum and Rayet’s arm. The monitor set in the right corner of the desk showed a sudden spike as ECG lines – one above and one below – began surging.   
  
‘Metabolic flux,’ the Doctor said, reading the numbers, as serum mineral levels spiked then fell. ‘Oh,’ he added, ‘This time they’re definitely coming around.’  
  
Saazbaum started coughing, straining against the loosened restraints. Orlane removed then as, he fell onto the floor, then sucked in a deep breath, tearing off the connections and wires from his wrists and temples. She grabbed his wrists, helping with the process. Across the room, Rayet was doing the same with Inaho’s help. The boy had knelt beside her.  
  
‘Never again,’ He said, voice muffled, by Orlane’s arm. She’d wrapped both around his neck so they rested on his back. All was forgiven, it seemed, at least temporarily, and even if it hadn’t been, the sight of her so alive and well in the present warmed his heart.   
  
He choked down the emotions, though. It wouldn’t do to cry. Not now. He spoiled the moment, though, by asking, ‘Where’s my other self?’  
  
‘You two aren’t going to try and kill each other again, are you?’ She said, in a slightly strained voice. ‘Because you know, -‘  
  
He waved it off. ‘I’m beyond that now.’ And perhaps it was true. Travelling to the site of Heaven’s Fall, he had finally realised what it meant to be displaced so far from home without any means of returning. Perhaps he had been too quick to assume that his other self had wanted to assume power, when it was now clear that he had simply wanted to return home.  
  
He got up unsteadily and walked over to the drive which he assumed was his and placed his hand over the sphere, willing it to activate. A faint glow emitted from his skin as if remembering it, but the sphere remained dun and he felt no emotions radiate from it. He withdrew his hand.   
  
‘Your life signs were like a person in a coma when we found the two of you,’ The Doctor said, staring at the two spheres. Rayet’s and Saazbaum’s still touched each other at the periphery. Perhaps that was how she’d been able to communicate with him. ‘You were alive, but you didn’t respond to anything.’  
  
‘The two of you were in the spheres weren’t you? They were lit up.’ Orlane asked. ‘When I touched yours, it seems absurd to say this out loud, but I almost felt as if the light was wriggling away from my hand.’  
  
Rayet gave him a knowing glance. Shadows. He felt like burying himself in a hole in embarrassment, but he wondered what would happen if Orlane tried cuddling the sphere with him still in it. ‘Possibly. I am lost on the particulars. The memories are hazy.’ The Viceroy lied. ‘You didn’t see any other Aldnoah Drives though, did you?’  
  
Both the Orlane and the Doctor shook their head. Inaho’s eyes remained very alert. It was far easier to read him, using his other self’s memories. They had returned integrated with his own, almost as if they were homing in on him and trying to tell him something important.   
  
He took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t kill them.’ He admitted bluntly. ‘This universe’s Slaine and Princess. Troyard ended up using them for the drives.’ His quiet words caused Inaho to twitch once, just briefly. Then he walked over the wastepaper bin and vomited.  
  
It wasn’t because of the nausea and the headache which had worsened since visiting Heaven’s Fall, it was the knowledge of what he’d unknowingly helped Troyard with which horrified and sickened him. Did they still live? He wondered. Surely in the state he’d left them in their body would not have endured for much longer. And yet, maybe their fragmented minds lived on, enduring what their body did not in an imaginary world.    
  
He’d denied his enemies not life, as he’d originally thought, but eternal peace.   
  
‘We have to hurry,’ was all the Time Lord said.    
  



	73. Munsell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge warning for graphic descriptions for canon non typical descriptions of gore/body parts/horror

_Esteemed colleagues, we cannot bury our dead. Post mortem, toxicity builds up in the body as the liver is shut down. Furthermore, putrefaction and the spread of disease has a variety of health impacts from gastro-enteritis and other contamination by microbiota. Cremation is not a solution either due to the release of contaminants into our already limited atmosphere. Increasing the biodegradability of corpses, therefore, is our priority and I have developed an enzymatic solution targeted at degrading the organic compounds of the human body. The only drawback is the concentration required for administration_. – Mars Keynote Address, 1981  
  
Their fall was cushioned by a kind of organic soup like material. Saazbaum, Slaine and Asseylum fell into it like a particularly soft and viscous mattress and it compressed downwards like a spring to absorb their impact.  
  
When Slaine lifted his fingers out of it dribbled out of his fingers like viscous drool. The stench of it was incredible. ‘Yuck,’ he said. Over his shoulder he’d noticed that Saazbaum had tensed. His searching brown eyes had found something.  
  
‘You probably don’t want to see this. Either of you.’ Saazbaum said slowly, but neither averted their eyes and out of respect he didn’t cover their eyes with his hands, although he wanted so badly to protect them by closing their eyes to the tragedy of this world.  
  
It was a paper thin, partly decomposed face. Inaho’s. One eye was intact, the other wasn’t and had been turned translucent, a few of the cheekbone impressions still visible. They watched as it drifted away, the movement of the hair so soft and serene, a discordant symphony before the coming nightmare. Slaine gagged, sloshing backwards away, held captive by primal terror.   
  
‘I think I’m going to throw up,’ Slaine said, dry retching. He stumbled back, trying to put as much distance between himself and the thing as possible. Only to smack into something solid in the soup. ‘Oh god,’ he said, a note of hysteria entering into his voice. ‘These are human bones. Human remains. Everywhere.’ He stumbled back in terror.  
  
‘Try to stay calm,’ Asseylum whispered, barely making a sound. She had made herself very small. Shrinking, but her fingers had wound themselves into Slaine’s, so the boy steadied himself, opting to calm himself.  
  
‘We just saw Inaho and he was fine a moment ago.’  
  
Saazbaum was already shaking his head. ‘Judging by the smell and the appearance, these corpses have been decomposing for a very long time. This was the fate of your counterparts.’ His tone was so bland that Slaine shuddered deep down.  
  
‘How can you be so calm?’ The boy asked quietly, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes. Tremors he tried to suppress still wracked his body.   
  
‘I believe I did this.’ Saazbaum unfolded his hands. Could have. Must have. ‘Becoming an adult isn’t about learning to avoid mistakes, but about taking responsibility for your actions. And I take responsibility for this.’ His chin dipped slightly, voice emotionless but profile unhappy. He seemed shrouded in the gloom.   
  
‘You’re doing it again.’ Asseylum said, lightly digging into the Count’s arm.  
  
‘Hmm?’ He looked up.  
  
‘Being a defeatist. We still don’t know who is behind this. Not for certain.’   
  
Although the words weren’t addressed at him, the corners of Slaine’s mouth also turned down. He too, remembered the day he’d clenched a gun in his hands and the colour of Inaho’s blood on his hands.  
  
Saazbaum looked away. ‘Oh. I know myself better than anyone.’ He said, in a self-disparaging tone. They walked on. ‘After all, I know what I’m capable of, even if you think differently.’ He laughed briefly.   
  
They sloshed through more victims. The majority of corpses had been entirely dissolved away, although a few inorganic materials like zippers and buckles had remained. Men, woman, Terrans and Martians, all were present.   
  
Two bodies in particular stood out. Dark blue and maroon swabs of cloth poked out of water like seaweed floating on top of the water, made ghostly by the white cloth.   
  
In death, the bones of the two people had enmeshed. Slaine and Asseylum watched, rooted with morbid fascination as Saazbaum walked over, knelt and, as gently as he could, rotated their necks so their faces came visible with a sticky plop. The skin had come away from the flesh, dislodged by the movement.   
  
Slaine gagged again, soundlessly, recognising himself and Asseylum in the corpses and amongst the undulating hair.  There was no blood anywhere. It had long since been washed clean by the dead still liquid.   
  
The corpses, upon their release simply floated back to the surface accompanied by tiny thick bubbles.  Saazbaum appeared to remain where he was. He didn’t get up, continuing to sit. He seemed not to notice the human soup littered with dissolved flesh, bone and organs.   
  
‘Saazbaum?’  
  
No response. After a while of just standing there, Asseylum approached the man tentatively.   
  
As she got closer, she realised that he wasn’t motionless as she’d thought. He was rocking back and forth, so gently that the movement barely caught her eye. She patted his shoulder and he finally turned around. His cheeks and eyes were wet, eyes huge and the tears ran in rivulets into the filth which clung to him.   
  
‘All my fault.’ He whispered. ‘Every time I try to make amends, I just make things worse. Why do I even bother, when my attempts only bring failure and so much pain for so many people?’ He looked ashen.   
  
She didn’t know what to say, but held her hand out anyway. ‘What’s in the past, stays in the past. All that matters now is the future.’  
  
He didn’t take it. If anything, it seemed he sunk lower into the viscous liquid, cocooning himself in it and wrapping his arms around himself. ‘Leave me be.’ He said wretchedly, in a tone which verged on tears. Fresh ones had already begun streaking down his face.   
  
How much did he normally keep behind that façade, she wondered, looking at a face eaten up with guilt. How well did they really know him? They’d shared some fun and happy times between the four of them and the Doctor, for sure, but she’d only ever caught a few glimpses of varying depth. Sometimes it was hatred and anger, usually when Orlane was mentioned. But now, unexpectedly, it was self loathing.  
  
The matter of his actions as a traitor had always frightened her in her time on Earth. Then, he’d been a looming shadow with unknown motives and quantities. But even once they’d all grown closer, he’d retained the traits of arrogance, always sure, of his own beliefs. Much as she’d been initially reluctant to admit it, but the confidence was reassuring. Like Slaine, he was a grounding facet of her old life, the one before the Doctor, before they’d been moored in this terrible war.  
  
He’d stopped rocking. If anything, it was more unnerving. A sad Saazbaum she could deal with. A Saazbaum suffering a mental breakdown in the middle of a corpse riddled graveyard while they tried to deal with a time travelling potential psychopath of unknown quantity was something she couldn’t.  
  
‘I’m not going to abandon you, either.’ Slaine said, face lowered. He’d scooted over too. ‘We’ve been through far too much already.’  
  
Saazbaum gave a forced laugh. The air rang with the mocking tone. ‘Indeed. I am the burden you can’t get rid of. The weight around your neck holding you down underneath the water.’  
  
‘That was a terrible metaphor.’ Asseylum said. Two pairs of her eyes riveted to her disbelievingly. ‘What?’ She said, shrugging. ‘It makes perfect sense if you think about it this way. You wouldn’t even be under the water in the first place unless you were lying flat on your stomach. So you see, Saazbaum, you are hardly a burden.’ She smiled again.   
  
‘I’m… hardly a burden.’ He said, a little stunned. His eyes to well up again. This time, Asseylum and Slaine held him as his shoulders shook and he cried into them, until the tears ran out.   
  
Eventually, he pulled away. Asseylum offered him her sleeve to dry his face on. He shook his head, regaining a small trace of dignity. ‘Your clothes would only be soiled, Princess.’ He told her, still leaning on her shoulder a little, the movement made awkward given his height.   
  
She shrugged. ‘We’re already all filthy. A little more won’t do any harm and it’s not anything that a few minutes of laundry won’t fix.’  
  
He looked down. ‘I don’t deserve your kindness. I-‘  
  
She put one finger against his lips. ‘Shush. You heard Slaine, everything is forgiven. Now dry your eyes. That’s an order.’   
  
He did as he was told.  
  



	74. Cluster

_Children of elementary school age were asked to write down their fears. The most frequent results were collected from samples made before and after the war:_  
 _Sample A: Dark, Not making friends, monsters, being criticised, tests, separation_  
 _Sample B: Isolation, death, soldiers, army, Mars, them coming, they come, the coming_  
 _Subsequent trials of Sample B yielded a similar anomalous result across the last three terms, though the lack of specificity is shared across every group. A collective fear of the unknown._  
  
  
‘Daddy said that there was nobody else here,’ the boy with blond hair and wide blue-green eyes. Pupils too, the Viceroy thought. No longer a trivial detail, they sat like black watermelon seeds in each eye. He clung to the edge of the doorframe with one chubby hand. A teddybear trailed from his grasp in the other.  
  
Somehow, the kid had managed to stumble across the room.   
  
‘What’s your teddybear’s name?’ The Doctor asked, cheerily. He’d squatted so he was at the same height as the blond head and clamped two hands to his knees.   
  
‘Snafu.’ The toddler replied.   
  
The Doctor smiled genially in response. ‘That’s cute.’  
  
‘I named it after the gene in Drosophila melanogaster that daddy wrote his thesis on.’ It needed to be said that the smile didn’t drop for a single instant, instead it continued like the expression of a right idiot.  
  
‘That is an interesting name.’ The Time Lord said encouragingly, tucking away a memo to introduce the boy to something far more age appropriate and more exciting.  
  
‘Do you have a teddybear?’  
  
‘Yes,’ The answer came gravely. ‘His name was Salsa, although mind you, it wasn’t exactly a choice on my part.’ He took in a deep breath, as if preparing himself before continuing. ‘A good friend of mine, Terran, mind, thought it was a wonderful nickname.’  
  
‘Is it short for Saazbaum?’ The three year old pronounced it as ‘Sauce bum’ drawing an immediate flash of dislike from its lifesize and distinctly human namesake.  
  
‘Yes it is, actually.’ The Doctor enthused. ‘Would you like to tell me your name?’  
  
‘It’s Slaine. Slaine Troyard. I’m sure daddy would love to meet you.’  The Time Lord linked hands with the kid.    
  
The Viceroy groaned internally. He was sure that ‘daddy’ would also love to murder them or remove their brains and trap their minds in plastic wrap, but there was no use explaining details to a child that young or to a several hundred year old alien with the enthusiasm of a five year old. 

* * *

It was how they ended up in the crèche.  Toys spilled over the floors and light flooded in from the gauzy windows. There were at least a hundred Slaines present, a quick gauge indicated varying ages. There were cots where younger versions of Slaine slept soundly, sucking on their thumbs or pacifiers. Older Slaines sat up and stacked together coloured blocks with bold letters written on the sides. On the cushioned bench over to the side, a Slaine was taking his first steps.   
  
None, however, were older than five or six, a fact that chilled him to the core.   
  
The Doctor had snuck off with Inaho and Orlane to do some quality investigating and Doctor Troyard hadn’t showed up either. Leaving him and Rayet to entertain the Slaines which the Time Lord had claimed were either clones or the same Slaine at different points in his life. And surveillance too, but clearly that was less important than a hoard of overly needy children starved of human interaction their entire lives.   
  
The Viceroy fumed internally. He was certain that this was the infernal alien’s revenge for his earlier actions. On the flip side, Orlane had thought that the babysitting was all a wonderful and relaxing idea.   
  
‘I’m sure you’ll do a lovely job,’ she’d said. Which meant, of course, no murdering them a second time. Or otherwise tying them through the use of ropes and whatever materials were on hand to the beds or the walls for convenience’s sake. Or gagging them while he read one of Troyard’s books at a leisuredly pace.    
  
‘I want to play with Sauce!’ A blond haired toddler cried. The Viceroy had attracted quite a hoard of grabbing hands. He stood in the centre of the mob now, trying to keep as much distance between him and them as possible. One of the little nightmares had climbed into his back and was insolently tugging at his hair.  
  
He had made the earlier mistake of reading a few sentences to a Slaine from a storybook. And like sharks, they had scented that he was weak, slowly at first, but then eagerly.   
  
Rayet took the opportunity to sidle over. The wave of children parted easily and none even considered something as brazen as tying both her shoelaces together so she tripped. ‘Never gotten along well with children, have you?’   
  
‘No.’ Was his short answer. ‘Their minds are occupied with trite imaginings. They are nasty, messy and indecorous --ARGH!’ The Slaine which had grabbed his hair had bent over and pinched his nose.   
  
‘Well, I suppose that now it’s time to learn of the wonders of parenthood. Dad.’ She said, employing a sardonic tone and a grin too match.   
  
‘Please, a moment!’ He cried frantically.   
  
‘I’ll keep an eye out for Doctor Troyard. That’s what you want, right? So we don’t end up those spheres again.’ Rayet said and picked a path away from him.   
  
‘What are you, a sociopath?’ He managed, before the boy grabbed ahold of his hair again and yanked a tuft of hair like he was a horse. ‘We could take it in turns.’  
  
‘You didn’t share turns with Wolf Areash on Earth, did you?’ Came the only reply. ‘Guessed not. You relied far too much on blackmail.’  
  
And coercion had clearly come back to bite him. He looked on his little companions, unenthused.   
  
‘Ride! Ride on Salsa!’ The Slaine sitting on him chanted. Other Slaines joined in rapidly, so it became a mantra of little enthusiastic voices. The boy tugged on his hair extra hard.   
  
‘Very well, you little monster.’ The Viceroy scowled hard, an expression which would make most Martians and Terrans alike quake in fear but none of the Slaines took the slightest hint since they were as airbrained and stubborn as their older counterpart. He made the rounds.  
  



	75. Investigation

_**"Veni, vidi, vici"** : I came; I saw; I conquered_  
  
‘Bookshelves. Bottles. Lab tables. Bunsen burners. Pencils. Pens.’ The Doctor said, running one finger down one. It came away clean. The sink was tidy, a sponge affixed to the base of the tap before the metal arched upwards. The stools, four of them, sat underneath the white heatproof table like an army of soldiers.   
  
Away from the laboratory table stood a bookshelf. It was a creamy white and contained various texts ranging from human genetics to plant biology. The Doctor opened one book at random, revealing a doublespread large diagram of a chloroplast.   
  
‘1001 Science Facts for Children,’ The Time Lord read. The other books were similarly targeted at primary school or younger children.   
  
‘Maps of the World here.’ Inaho called, holding up one book. ‘So they’re just varying subjects. Geography, Natural History, English…’  
  
‘This room is used for teaching.’ Orlane concluded. She opened up one of the drawers and found rubber bands, rubber gloves and a few plastic trays. The drawer underneath had a few petri dishes held with rubber bands together and one had a few germinating broad beans surrounding by blue grey fungus in them, dated a week ago with a child’s hand.  
  
‘Anything over there?’ The Doctor asked. Inaho had opened up a door. Harsh bright white light filtered in.   
  
‘It’s essentially the same as the room we found Rayet and Saazbaum in.’ The boy reported. ‘Minus the drives and the screen. This one has sinks, though.’  
  
It contained four operating theatre styled chairs instead of two.   
  
‘Let me see.’ The Doctor stuck his head through the door opening, for all the world looking like a very large cat. ‘Now that’s interesting… Power adapters.’ The sockets were white sitting at ground level. There were more of them in the cupboard underneath the basin.   
  
‘Japan uses 100 volts, two flat pins.’ Inaho flatly.   
  
The Time Lord scratched his head. ‘The rest of this building doesn’t have electric sockets.’ His eyes travelled up down and around. ‘Now that I consider it, this part of the building does seem older than the rest.’  
  
Orlane had found two more adjoining doors. One led into a darkened room containing rows upon rows of glass bottles containing developing embryos with curled tails. Every now and then, bubbles would rise to the surface eerily lit by a warm red-pink light. There were humans in later stages of development, babies still with their eyes closed, connected to a metal umbilical cords.  
  
‘It’s all very Brave New World. Aldous Huxley would be proud.’ The Doctor remarked. Machinery hooked to the bottles provided a slow amount of movement and stimulation.   
  
Inaho stepped in front of one of the larger bottles. ‘I think they’re all Slaine. Clones of him. There will be plenty of time to deal with this after the Troyard business is finished.’ He said, sounding a little restless.

* * *

  
Three figures descended through the second doorway slowly. The tunnel was subterranean and reinforced, the corridor, walls stone and claustrophobically close.  
  


* * *

  
The other Slaines had finally decided to take a nap, thankfully, in record time. The very youngest were snoozing near the cots so he carefully picked those up, one by one and put them into bed. A few turned over. A few more whispered some nonsense words.  
  
There was a small figure in the corner. It was the Slaine trailing the teddybear from earlier. He had caught the toddler out of the corner of his eyes several times earlier, but unlike the others this one didn’t always keep very close to the pack, even when they were playing.  
  
He eyed the boy. ‘Why aren’t you in bed like the others?’ He asked warily expecting trouble  
  
The boy… blinked. When his eyes refocused, the pupils were gone. Just a sea of blue-green colour. He smiled at the Viceroy’s shock. The man’s lips had parted with surprise.   
  
‘You’d find it difficult to sleep too, if you were stretched this thin.’ Then, very deliberately the boy picked up Snafu and hugged him tight to his chest.   
  



	76. People

_VO: [A dark room of some sort, a pre-recordering. The speaker’s face is not visible and the voice is carefully neutral] In De Ira, Piso, a law marker, ordered the execution of a man who had returned without the leave of absence from a comrade. He presumed that if the man had returned without his companion, then he had surely murdered him._   
  
‘It’s been three years, four weeks, three days and eighteen hours since we last met and you attempted to kill me.’ The toddler was sitting on top of lab bench.   
  
‘Three… You remember that far back?’  
  
‘Counting helps to keep me sane,’ Slaine replied, bitingly. ‘I can only project and communicate like this from the drive when most of the clones are asleep. Otherwise I am lost in a sea of minds.’  
  
‘He means hurry up and only ask what’s important,’ Rayet muttered. She’d crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe.   
  
‘How many people did your father use to make the drives?’  
  
‘Asseylum and I. The clones have a two month expiration date once they’re put in the drive.’  
  
A beat. ‘And you?’    
  
An expression of annoyance crossed the chubby face. ‘That’s none of your business. Human minds aren’t designed to last forever in here.’  
  
‘Where are your drives being stored?’  
  
Slaine searched the ground with his eyes, pausing. ‘Somewhere dark. It’s wet. None of the clones have seen that place and lived.’  
  
‘Is it underground?’ Rayet asked. ‘Close to the light?’  
  
‘Perhaps. I’m not sure.’ The boy admitted. ‘I’m sorry that I can’t be more help. Saazbaum.’  
  
‘Yes?’  
  
‘Promise me that you’ll torch this place to the ground so that our original bodies and my genetic blueprints can’t be found. We’re tired of living like this.’  
  
‘What about the clones?’ He demanded.  
  
‘All of their minds are already in the system.’ Slaine replied. He briefly looked at the ground. ‘Doctor Troyard needed to power his time machine. Every mind. Even the embryos. They’ve… we’ve been in there so long that the shock of leaving would kill us. This course of action is what we’ve agreed upon.’  
  
All the blood drained out of the Viceroy’s face. ‘How?’ He stammered. ‘How is that possible?’  
  
‘Troyard reversed the relationship between drive and operator. Gave us a bit of a childhood something to keep our minds occupied.’ The eyes looked distant, an odd expression in a toddler. ‘It’s not much of a life.’ The expression hardened. ‘Not worth keeping that abomination operational.’  
  
‘Fair enough.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Consider it done, to the best of my abilities.’  
  
Slaine’s face scrunched up. ‘Not much time. The Time Machine, it’s also based on a paradox. To shut it down, you must first find a way to end it. I’m sorry I can’t give you more information.’  
  
The face relaxed and abruptly became dreamy. The eyes blinked and the pupils returned. ‘Sauce?’ The toddler enquired.   
  
‘Bedtime.’ The Viceroy told the boy and picked up Snafu from where he’d fallen. One of the eyes had come a little loose.  
  
The Slaine yawned. ‘Daddy’s draining all the power.’ The boy said sadly as he carried him over the threshold. One of the toddlers were lying across the threshold. Unmoving.  
  
‘Oh no.’ Saazbaum said quietly.  
  
Rayet was bent over him. ‘He just fell over,’ she said, no longer attempting to keep her voice quiet. She checked for a pulse. There wasn’t any. Just a ghostly rainbow light seeping out of the skin, the eyes like two dull teal pebbles focussing on something they couldn’t see.  
  
‘Overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out.’ The Slaine with Snafu was whispering quietly, hugging the bear flattened. ‘There is always a last time for everything.’ He was probably quoting lines from a book. Saazbaum hugged the boy a little more tightly, aware that whatever reassurance he offered was inadequate.   
  
Quietly, there was the sound of a voice weeping, not entirely drowned out by the silence. Together, they waited for the inevitable.  
  



	77. Rift

V.O [cont.] Just as the man was about to be executed, this comrade reappeared. Yet the condemned did not receive a reprieve, as expected. Piso ordered the execution of the man who had been condemned, because the sentence had been passed, the death of the executioner who had failed to carry out his duty and the death of the man who was supposed to be murdered, as it was because of this man’s supposed demise that two men had been murdered.   
  
It was a thin slit hovering above the air like a pillar of light which hurt to look at, a fiery white distortion which inspired a sense of unease in Slaine. The closer he got, the sicker he felt. It sat about fifty metres in front of a half a skeleton machine on a circular plane metal plinth, shrouded by ghostly light running through in colours extruding from the drives which caged the too bright light where it made contact.    
  
Wires projected straight out along the edges where the metal had been sliced like the pins out of a CPU. The outside looked like a thick dark metal shell. The interior walls were covered in the smooth orbs of Aldnoah drives like polyps on coral reef. The encompassed the entire interior with light which danced sinuously across the metal. Enormous steel girders around the walls, held the structure together.   
  
‘It wouldn’t do to approach too close,’ Saazbaum said quietly, straight backed, though he didn’t hold his hands behind his back like he usually did. Instead, they hung loosely at his sides as if he wasn’t sure where he should put them. ‘We still have no idea if there are any adverse consequences.’  
  
‘I think it looks like a tear in space or time.’ Asseylum said.   
  
‘An excellent observation.’ A voice added. They spun around. Doctor Troyard’s reedy form was visible. He reached deep into one pocket of his laboratory coat, a simple white, and extracted a microfiber cloth which he used to polish his glasses. His index finger and thumb made small circles as he did so.  ‘Could I request a few minutes alone with my son?’  
  
‘No.’ Saazbaum replied, immediately.  
  
Troyard twisted his head towards him. His eyes appeared pitch black in the angle, almost as if they entirely absorbed the light. ‘You know, I don’t seem to recall Slaine replying.’  
  
‘If you wish to talk, you might as will talk in front of us.’ Slaine replied frostily. ‘You could begin by explaining the bodies.’ His voice became quiet. ‘Dead bodies of victims I walked through today, which you put here.’  
  
Troyard’s mouth formed a thin ridge of displeasure. ‘I, murder people?’ He snorted. ‘Please Slaine, they were recovered by the UEF forces.’ He directed his voice to the right. ‘Murdered by Lord Saazbaum and his troops. No offence to our current company intended. Your other self was a little less than agreeable.’   
  
And safely tucked up in the Landing Castle, or so Saazbaum hoped. There was a slight orange tinge in the column of radiance which his peripheral vision briefly caught. The tongue of flame vanished when he brought all his attention to bear upon it.   
  
‘Which of course,’ Slaine’s voice was shaking, ‘Means that my own body and the Princess Royal of Vers should be left out on the floor like so much garbage.’  
  
Troyard still wore a polite smile like a mask. ‘Well, that is easily explained.’ He had perfect teeth, Slaine noticed unwillingly. ‘I only have one son. You. The other one was a perfect failure. You see, it doesn’t matter to me, whatever universe you come from. Our meeting was fated. Destiny led you to me.’  
  
‘You…’ Slaine began, staring. Partly in horror, that this man could so casually dismiss his own son and partly in horror that the gap in time had flickered, widening. He broke off. He could see a glimpse of hellish fire beyond that gateway. ‘What have you done?’ The boy demanded.   
  
The first of many gateways to other worlds and times, if you want to be pedantic about it.’ Troyard lowered his voice. ‘Mars’ lineage sought to rule Earth, but with the power of time travel we could rule all of time space, bent to our whims. Imagine that, no more wars, no more destruction.’  
  
‘Like I would work with you,’ Slaine roared, balling his fingers into fists.   
‘Slaine, step away from that plinth.’ The Doctor’s voice shot out of the dark. The Time Lord ran as fast as his limber legs could take him, across the viscous goo of human corpses. ‘Now!’  
  
With a shudder, the gap became a yawning chasm. The boy stood paralysed as it buckled, widening in girth. His eyes widened, ‘We have to shut that machine down.’  
  
He raced over to one of the nearest drive and placed two outstretched hands over it. In doing so, he turned his back on Doctor Troyard. A big mistake.   
  
_Deactivate, y/n?_ The protocol asked in his mind. A familiar voice. It was his own. He gasped out loud in shock.   
  
Troyard was shaking his head in disappointment. ‘A failure, then. I suppose you really are unusable.’ He extracted a long glittering concealed blade from underneath his sleeve, slamming it downwards on Slaine’s exposed back. A hand flew out of nowhere, interrupting the downward arc before the knife could make contact.  
  
The Doctor and Troyard fought. A vein stood out on the latter’s temple. ‘A better world,’ the man snarled. ‘Mars is populated by fascists, intent on keeping power as a form of genetic privilege.’   
  
‘And is your concept of trapping human minds to fuel your intent any better?’ The Time Lord retorted.  
  
‘I wouldn’t have thought you of all people willing to resort to violence. I read your files.’  
  
‘Sometimes, there really is no other choice.’ The Time Lord said sadly. ‘However, to secure the safety of this timeline and the universe, I have no other choice in this one.’  
  
Asseylum searched frantically. There were no modules anywhere near the plinth which indicated how the rip in time was controlled, but the sine-like waves on the readout that spanned the centre were increasing in amplitude rapidly. ‘Doctor, there doesn’t seem to be any controls on this thing at all. It’s growing, feeding on itself.’ Her eyes grew in horror.   
  
‘She won’t find any solution because there isn’t one.’ Troyard replied steadily, then laughed. ‘Did you really think that a comparatively primitive series of Martian drives could really power something like this? Even your ship relies on a black hole.’  
  
The pieces of the puzzle fell together. The crash landing on Earth. The broken time machine. The psychic overload. The minds in the drive.   
  
If Troyard had not meddled in time, the TARDIS would not have been moored here. Conversely, if the TARDIS had not been moored here, Troyard would not have been able to meddle in time, lacking the blueprints to build his own time machine. It was an incongruously perfect loop.   
  
‘You’re using a paradox in time.’ The Doctor accused, incensed. ‘Powering that machine on a paradox, do you have any idea of what you’ll do? The solar system will melt, the Web of Time will fall apart and all because one silly human with no idea what he was doing didn’t know when to stop!’  
  
Troyard moved his hand back, the one still holding the knife. It was a very slight gesture. ‘Van der waals forces increase the closer an atom is to the other. As the cause of the paradox draws closer to the source, the greater the energy.’ He said, almost crestfallen. ‘I would have preferred to keep the energy levels stable, but with you here, an exponential increase is unavoidable.’   
  
‘Well, at least the energy is clean.’ The Doctor smiled, half-hearted, to drive off the subdued feelings, partly to spare those around him and partly to keep his own emotions in check. No time for logical reasoning or arguments, Doctor, he thought. He’d lived a long life, a good one he estimated. ‘Slaine, don’t turn off the drives are the only thing keeping that break in time in check. Without the power source, that gap won’t be contained.’   
  
The boy turned his head so slowly, as Rayet raced across the liquid. Behind him, the other Saazbaum followed, stumbling slightly on a protruding bone.   
  
‘I’m sorry, Doctor.’ The boy replied numbly, terrified. ‘I had no idea.’   
  
The slit became a whirling maelstrom. Through it, they could see the time vortex and beyond. Infinity loomed in that space, spirals of potential energy. Where it touched the floor of the plinth, it didn’t melt the metal. Instead, it rewound the metal. It groaned underneath the pressures of time as the metal reverted to the roughly polished metal, returning to ore and finally the rock it had been mined from.   
  
‘Slaine!’ Rayet thundered. ‘There were minds in that thing! Living minds! We could have restored them.’  
  
Troyard took a desperate swipe, not at the Doctor, but at one of the drives behind the Time Lord. This one had hung on with a feeble glow despite the deactivation, but the impact of the blow shattered the sphere. ‘You were always stubborn to the end, weren’t you,’ the man muttered. ‘Anything, anything for you. I never recognised that it wasn’t your failure, but mine all along.’ Actual ashamed tears had sprung in those driven, lunatic eyes, he didn’t seem to notice that they hovered on the eve of the universe’s destruction.   
  
Slaine was on his knees, perhaps in grief or unconscious. Rayet and Inaho had reached him.  
  
‘It’s ok, Slaine.’ The Doctor said, trying to console him. ‘We were only delaying the inevitable anyway.’ The boy looked at the Doctor, then shut his eyes. ‘I’ll fix everything. Rayet?’  
  
‘Yes?’ The girl’s eyes looked empty. She swayed slightly.   
  
‘Don’t trust the UEF. They’re corrupt, just as badly as their predecessors.’ Nobody had the chance to blink as Troyard moved, he almost seemed to glide with that white coat behind him. The knife flashed across the Doctor’s throat where the jugular would have been, but the Time Lord caught one wrist with his own and together they fell into the void, shrinking into pinpricks.  
  
‘No,’ Inaho said, looking at the maelstrom of painful radiance. Though the Doctor and Troyard were gone, it did not relent. No plans lying latent in his mind came to him in that moment. His mind grasped at nothing. For the first time in a long while, his expression wore the blankness of a bleak ­fear, rather than suppressed emotion. ‘No!’  
  
 If anything, the gash in time seemed to grow in size, gaping in primal hunger. His fingers tightened on Slaine’s upper arm. The maw of the raw time energy burrowed into the roof, returning it to prehistoric rock, touched the liquid which became sheer layers of ice from glaciers from whence it came. The walls collapsed downwards and hundreds and thousands of tons of rock buried them underneath their weight.  
  



	78. Requiem

_V.O [cont.] Fiat justitia ruat caelum. It might have just as well been the perfect allegory for our story. Princess Asseylum, of the supposed demise, myself, of course, the one who murdered her, Inaho, the failed executioner and Slaine the Piso. Or it would have been had I not already taken adequate precautions… Myself, I killed them all. All along, I was my own judge, jury and executioner._  
  
‘Saazbaum?’ Slaine said, squinting. The man was kneeling in front of him, trying to free him from the rubble. Still, the tempest blew higher and brighter, assembling almost into crystals as it spread. ‘Why…?’ Slaine said, trailing off, noticing two other half conscious figures. Another Saazbaum behind the man, holding Orlane. He had a moment of mental confusion.  
  
‘Don’t worry.’ The Viceroy said, seeing his confusion. He placed one hand on the side of the boy’s face. ‘Rest, it soon it will all be fine.’ He promised.  
  
Gradually, the boy closed his eyes, feeling, unconsciousness take him, still pinned by the rock.  
  
When his eyes opened again, they were a dull teal. The pupils had all but gone. Still, the Viceroy worked, trying to pry Slaine free with minimum damage. ‘It was Clarke, wasn’t it?’ He asked of ­the resident mind.  
  
The Slaine lowered the lids of the eyes of his host body then smiled, a soft sweet and lingering expression. ‘I didn’t think you had read the Nine Billion Names of God.’ He confessed. ‘Science fiction, it is so… unlike you.’  
  
He coughed once, and a small puff of light in all colours escaped from those lips.  
  
‘Don’t talk,’ Saazbaum warned him. ‘The other clones, they might be..’ He struggled to find the words. ‘Dead, but maybe, just maybe, somebody else could hold you.’  
  
‘I don’t care,’ the once a boy said swiftly, propping himself on one elbow. ‘About living. Taking other people’s bodies, that’s hardly the way to go, is it?’ He smiled again, a tired one. ‘I’ve outlived my stay.’ He said, pensive. ‘The victims and the innovators and the oppressed in the story, in this life. It’s all us.’  
  
Saazbaum went to argue. He was forestalled him. ‘Saazbaum.’ He said intensely. ‘Find your own redemption.’ And he was gone, a burst of light joining the trailing colours of Asseylum hovering like a ghostly mirage above the water. Inaho was with her, standing a short distance above the water, mouthing the words ‘Bat’, in a welcome. With a flash, the three lights fused and entered the sharp radiance of raw infinity.  
  
Very well. The Viceroy stood, brushing the grit off Slaine’s head. A quick peek revealed that the pupils were back. With one more tug, the boy came out effortlessly. He’d probably live, with marginal injuries.  
  
Saazbaum walked over to the swollen rift in space time. Beyond, he could see a billion stars and eternity. He could see his entire life story mapped out in the numbers of the space time continuum, relive every moment in his life in a blink, if he chose. Be anyone.  
  
Still the fires of Tanegshima would burn, in the aftermath of Heaven’s Fall. So many laws, of time, sanity and morality he had broken. A small, slight smile tugged at his mouth. And yet, in spite of it, his one hope that it was worth it rekindled, brighter than ever.  
  
Behind him, the person he had broken all the laws of time to save, reached out for him in desperation.  
  
‘Please,’ Orlane said, from where his younger self was holding her back. She wasn’t struggling, almost as if his fate was a given. ‘Please, don’t go.’  
  
‘Orlane, don’t be sad.’ He said in the words of a promise. ‘I love you, in every universe, across every time. Always remember that.’ He raised his hand in farewell, smiling as he was consumed by the rift.  
  
She cried as the universe took its due. A life for a life, and thus the books were rebalanced for now. With a final burst of brilliance, the gap sealed closed.

* * *

‘Sir, there’s nobody in the centre.’ Liv reported to her superior. ‘I suspect that they’re displaced in space.’  
  
Besalier tapped one chin thoughtfully. ‘Track them down. Find them. Oh, and one last thing,’ he added in his plummy tones, ‘The Time Lords in orbit, they have withdrawn, haven’t they?’  
  
‘Yes, it appears the breach has been contained so they are no longer needed.’ She replied. The old man’s shoulders fell a little, remembering the day that a half dead Saazbaum had returned with Orlane, then shook his head.  
  
Miracles seldom came without a cost, but there was always hope.   
  



	79. [Part 3] The Path Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 begins

On the edge of the Saharan desert, a morning wind so dry it stripped out moisture fanned over the dunes, blowing grains of sand into the air like horizontal fire. It moved over the river bed so dry with thirst that barely a trickle of moisture had escaped and towards the desert grass that clung to the dried ground like an enduring lifeline.    
  
A small dull black lizard skittered across the sand, its tail thrashing the sand horizontally as it darted – four legs moving astoundingly fast. It paused tasting the air with one lithe tongue then raced onwards across the dunes, its smart savvy eyes unfailingly noting the presence of a hiding desert snake in one of the few fronds of vegetation, whose half-hearted lunge it easily evaded as it ran.  
  
Far away on the settlement bordering the oasis on a desert as far away from Mars as one could get, a lone radio, greyed with the dust of disuse, had been left on. In a world dominated by laser transmissions, the ancient machine had been tuned into the FM channel the best it could, but it still crackled from the interference. Like the occupant of the building it was a long way from home with many miles existing between the broadcasting station and the receiver.  
  
Nowadays, only reports of the war dominated the remaining channels as most of the other broadcasting towers had been destroyed or entertainment had been deemed to unimportant to be broadcasted. Not that the restless man listening cared.  
  
‘And the UEF has condemned allegations that it has intercepted and destroyed Martian supply vessels en route to Earth.’ There were recorded sounds of cameras before the broadcast continued. ‘These false rumours, as UEF spokesperson reportedly said, betray our mission of equitably representing both sides of the conflict.’  
  
Saazbaum snorted. The situation was no different to that of twenty years ago. Why should he be shocked that the UEF was still keeping skeletons in its cupboard? Part of him hoped that Colonel Magbaredge had worked a change on the organisation. The other part recognised that she was just one person in an entire corrupt organisation.  
  
There was a knock at the door, causing his heart to leap. Was it…  
  
No it wasn’t Orlane or the Doctor. He hid his disappointment far away from the ramshackle walls of this beaten shelter.  
  
A man with a scarred visage and a scarf wound around his mouth and head to keep out the sand walked in. One of the facial recent wounds was recently sustained and the nose appeared to have been broken twice.  The man glared at him, resenting him for his non-nomadic lifestyle, resenting him on behalf of the wounded and most of all resenting him for wearing the face of his enemy.  
  
‘No lives were lost in the last Kataphrakt incursion because of my presence. ’ Saazbaum said, but his heart was beating very quickly. His eyes hadn’t missed the pulse rifle that the man carried over his shoulder.  
  
The man lowered his head ever so slightly. ‘Yes.’ he said in guttural English. These people were bilingual. The Count could see that the fact that he could understand them and communicate perfectly bothered them. It was far easier to dehumanise your enemy when they couldn’t communicate with you, but a person with a TARDIS empowered perfect grasp of the native dialect? That went beyond disturbing. It felt invasive.  
  
The wind slowly blew. The man said, ‘Walk with me.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Saazbaum obliged him anyway, assembling the dignity and pouring in the strength. This wasn’t a Martian controlled area, there was nobody for him to persuade.  
  
The walk was a short one, ending outside. A few camels grazed on the tough vegetation outside and men and women laboured to place large basins on the ground outside to catch the precious forecasted rain. The morning sky outside was a bloated purple pink with a mirage glimmer in the distance.  
  
‘Aircraft.’ The man said thickly, pointing at the encroaching black dot. ‘Wait here.’ He signed a spate of words to a woman who was similarly dressed, presumably to try and keep the conversation secret.  
  
Saazbaum understood what was being communicated, anyway, the translation circuits pushed the explanation of the language isolate into his brain.  
  
 _In exchange for the promises of supplies/They will pick up the man this morning._  
  
 _Is not food and water/A poor exchange for life?_  
  
 _It has been agreed upon/We fight not the war_  
  
Much as they weren’t on the best of terms, there was a startling fluidity and descriptiveness of the language and the rhythm of words in the gestures which Saazbaum found a quiet appreciation for. In respect, he turned his eyes away when the conversation took a more personal nature to avoid eavesdropping.    
  
The sleek Martian craft had landed. It was a troop carrier class and unlike an Earth craft, it looked like a triangular prism. The landing gears extended and engaged, the engine automatically compensating for the noise and the disturbance so that only a small amount of sand escaped from the underside when it touched down.  
  
‘As agreed, a months’ worth of supplies in exchange for the man.’ The person who had stepped out of the shuttle was Orlane clad in a dark blue Martian uniform.  
  
  



	80. Hope

_"There is an art to flying, or rather a knack. Its knack lies in learning to throw yourself at the ground and miss. ... Clearly, it is this second part, the missing, that presents the difficulties."_ – The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. This work was found upon attempting to locate ‘The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey’ in the Panopticon Archives.   
  
After helping the nomads carry the supplies away, Saazbaum belted himself into the copilot’s seat.  
  
‘If they knew how important we were, they probably wouldn’t have let us go so easily.’ He said, exchanging his dirt stained clothes into a cleaner set of clothes. It was immodest, but by now he was beyond caring. They had reached a high altitude so there was nobody to look in any case. Other than Orlane whose eyes were wholly occupied flying.    
  
The week spent after finding himself thrown into the Sahara hadn’t been a comfortable one, despite the fact that he had been treated adequately.  
  
‘I wouldn’t call exchanging supplies for somebody letting people go easily.’ Orlane looked ashen. ‘You do realise that food has replaced money as the currency on both Earth and Mars, right?’  
  
He closed his eyes heavily. ‘Did you recover the TARDIS?’ He’d finished up doing up his jacket’s buttons and leaned back.   
  
‘Yes, but the UEF has already attacked and destroyed a supply route to my Landing Castle. They’re trying to starve us out,’ she said matter of factedly, ‘But in reality we are all short of food. We’d be able to last a decade or two if we only fed my landing castle using the TARDIS, but an entire planet would barely last a few days.  There’s no sign of the Doctor, either.’  
  
Saazbaum’s expression sobered. ‘He’s not dead.’ He told her. ‘If the translation circuits are still working, he’s still alive. He’ll come back, I know it.’  
  
‘How should I know?’ She responded. ‘Maybe TARDISes don’t work like Aldnoah drives do. Maybe all the lights in the time machine can be on and the owner could be dead. Or maybe, he could be alive and on some other planet or trillions of years away in the future.’  
  
‘He’ll be back.’ He said again, but she didn’t seem to believe him and appeared unwilling to upset him with a contradiction. It went unsaid, like the death of the other Saazbaum which lay like an open gulf between them.   
  
Instead she said, ‘I’m really sorry that we took so long to find you. Slaine, Inaho and Asseylum have already been located and found. Darzana found you six days ago, she received the report from her troops, but we’ve had to be very careful to keep this mission a secret from the UEF. Officially, no one knows you’re here.’  
  
‘It does stand to reason. If the UEF found out that she was working with Martians, she’d lose her job, maybe her life.’ He decided to be upfront, she deserved the honesty. ‘On another note, while I was in the Sahara, I was attacked. Twice, though I wasn’t injured in the process.’  
  
Orlane looked grim. ‘Rogue Orbital Knights. Since you vanished, at least three have decided to take matters into their own hands, but we dealt with them. There might be more.’  
  
They were like a pit of vipers, Saazbaum thought, waiting to strike. ‘What we did to stop Doctor Troyard, then. It saved the planet then, but it changed nothing about the war.’   
  
I’ll work with you, Orlane, he thought. Besalier too, if he’s still on our side. The Orbital Knights would be pulled into line or removed, the rotten core of the UEF dredged up and exposed and hopefully replaced with somebody they knew. Then, the resource problem sorted. It was an enormous task, the work of many lifetimes and he hardly felt up to it, hardly wanted to do it, but in the end there was nobody else.  
  



	81. Winter

_Shrouding me in a blanket_  
 _The soft ice whispers_  
 _Be not afraid_.  
\-- (The coldest nights on Mars are a record -125 degrees Celsius)  
  
‘What happened to the other one?’ Schnei asked of the black haired boy clad in UEF gear the moment he entered. He stood like that for a while, inspecting the premises with a familiar eye.   
  
‘Dead,’ Saazbaum replied once he was done, shortly from behind the hologram of Inaho.  
  
Her lips curled. ‘You certainly worked quickly this time around.’   
  
‘I didn’t kill him.’   
  
‘I didn’t ask if you did.’   
  
They stared at each other. Saazbaum was the first one to break eye contact. ‘You are a little more perceptive than I expected,’ He said. Not much seemed to have changed on the way in, other than a few shifts in the staff.  
  
‘In infrared,’ she said. ‘You look about thirty centimetres taller with a different build. And certain rumours are circulating that since his return, the Viceroy has displayed a little less emotional depth than would normally expected, even towards his purported lover.’ She shrugged. ‘It was the most logical conclusion. If your other self is dead and you are absent, another person ruled in your place.’  
  
‘An interesting observation. And you certainly operated quickly too,’ he gestured, ‘Your reinstatement. Congratulations.’ His voice was flat. She was wearing the charcoal uniform of a noble again.   
  
‘I’ve seen three psychologists. Been prescribed hypnotherapy.’ She stressed, but didn’t show outward anger. ‘I’m the only one of the few people who could remember what really happened here, yet I’m not part of the conspiracy. As far as everybody else is concerned, I am delusional and my memories go too far back to be erased.’  
  
Saazbaum crossed his arms. Surprisingly, she finally had his attention. ‘You want to forget,’ he told her.  
  
‘No, I wouldn’t want to forget, you presumptuous bastard even if I could. I want to know. Why. How.’  
  
Perhaps out of a desire to do good or perhaps because he valued honesty, he detailed the events for her the events surrounding the rescue of the Terrans. He explained in sparing detail how they had crash landed and their decision to go home despite the fact that they had been separated. He lightly touched upon a feeling of obligation for the friends of his friends, the resistance he encountered from his other self and of his reunion with Besalier. Then, he covered the findings of Troyard’s treachery and finally, in humbling detail, the story of his other self’s demise.  
  
‘It’s a good story. Almost fantastical enough to be true,’ she said grudgingly, at last when he had finished talking and had downed a glass of water.   
  
‘The simplest explanation is usually the best one, you’ll find.’  
  
‘Perhaps I can understand you better now, but it changes nothing. I still hate you.’   
  
He didn’t react. ‘I suppose that’s to be expected. Hate is rarely a rational emotion.’ He sat on the table and crossed his legs so he leaned on it.  
  
‘It’s not for the reason you think.’ She said, taking a swig from her own glass of water. An observer would have noted the odd companionship, the taller one oddly diminished by choice, the one fuelled by dislike seeking out acquaintance by choice.   
  
After a while, she set the glass down, eyes far away. Listless. ‘My cousins and I lived on a small country province in Western Australia. Rural.’   
  
Saazbaum’s expression didn’t change. She took it as an invitation to continue, ‘Harvest was particularly bad that year. The drought had always been there, at the back of our minds, but that year my parents were forced to sell our homestead. Then the invitation came from the UEF.’  
  
It was the subtlest shift in expression, but she could see it affected Saazbaum. He could imagine it.   
  
‘They needed agriculturalists. Experienced ones. In exchange for settling on Mars, they would pay a stipend to us so we could keep our properties back on Earth. My mum and dad were ecstatic, but it was only later that I found out that my cousins and uncle were left behind. Before relations with Earth became so bad, we used to exchange video calls on Skype. Then the war started. I still had relatives on Earth, you see.’  
  
He could plainly imagine the effects of Heaven’s Fall. ‘What happened then?’ He asked.  
  
‘They were just children, when the famine got to them. It’s funny, you know.’ She said, unconsciously tapping the edge of the glass against the table. ‘You’d think that conscription kills the most people. But they’re wrong. It’s just food and water, the most basic of all human needs.’  
  
Saazbaum didn’t say anything.  
  
‘Why those Terrans? What gives you that right to play God, to decide who is worthy of life?’ Her eyes hardened. ‘Perhaps on some level I can understand. But, given the choice between those anonymous Terrans out there and our own, I’d save ours every time. And yet, I’d save my cousins every time. I suppose that makes me a hypocrite and a traitor.’ She thumped the glass onto the table. It left a mark.  
  
‘Yet in spite of everything, you worked with my stand in, though.’ He nodded at her uniform. ‘Despite the fact you hate me so much.’  
  
‘Perhaps I can respect a person who doesn’t allow emotions to cloud his judgement. But you and I will never see eye to eye. Sooner or later, I will undermine you, for as long as I cling to this existence I swear it.’ She got up, apparently satisfied with the ultimatum.  
  
‘Where are you going now?’ He asked her as she withdrew.   
  
‘My cell. I’m still on parole, aren’t I? Well with you back, I suppose the grace period ends here. Treason is a capital offence, punishable only in one way.’  
  
She meant death.  
  
‘Indeed. Which is why I’m commuting the sentence and sending you to Count Keteratesse in Beijing.’ He deliberately leant over and placed his empty cup next to hers. ‘He has no small amount of dislike for me.’  
  
It was worth saying it just to see her choke. But when she replied her voice was as a calm tone as his own. ‘A ridiculous sham, even by your standards.’   
  
‘Quite on the contrary, I’m deadly serious.’ His fingers hovered over the glasses. ‘You could conspire together to overthrow me, a coup which will probably lead to bloodshed. Alternately, you could instigate reform. I’ll leave the choice up to you. If you are interested, I’ll have Menzies pack your bags by 05:00 tomorrow morning.’  
  
‘You’ll end up regretting this.’ Even if it was a trap, alive, she might end up gaining sufficient leverage with a sympathiser to escape.  
  
‘Oh trust me,’ he replied on the way out, ‘I’m living with plenty already. One more won’t make much of the difference.’ The small smile looked out of place on the boy’s face.  
  



	82. Counsel

_“A wise person can learn from even the lowliest fool”_ – an Ancient Terran Proverb  
  
He met with Inaho in the laboratories lying underneath the Landing Castle, pouring over a hardcopy index of native Terran birdlife. A feather lay clipped to the stage of the light microscope next to him on the bench. The person operating the microscope was middle aged female with a squat chin and Asiatic features   
  
The boy was still wearing the guise, so Saazbaum was treated to a lifesized version of himself flipping over the pages. The photos depicted many hundred sketches and photographs of plumage.   
  
‘A moment, if you please,’ Inaho said politely to the head scientist and they left for more privacy. Nina looked after them curiously, and padded after them.

* * *

  
Saazbaum locked the door with his activation factor, the white tracing around his fingers as it accepted him.   
Inaho watched the process with a curious mixture of reprehension and neutrality as the process completed. The emotion faded the instant it was finished.   
  
 ‘It’s the third assassination attempt this week,’ Inaho stated. Somehow he managed to sound bleak without modulating his voice, as they deactivated their respective holograms. ‘One of the UEF senators received a package as a birthday gift and it turned out to be a rigged explosive device. Nobody was hurt, but the entire incident was blamed on Martian terrorists. The only clue left was a feather, we hope to find usable fingerprint or DNA evidence to identify the perpetrator.’  
  
‘It’s why I’m here,’ Nina added. ‘As a Terran ambassador.’  
  
Saazbaum’s stomach turned. ‘I thought that with the war over…’  
  
‘I vetted the package myself. We didn’t turn up anything before it was sent, let alone composite explosives.’ Inaho shook his head. ‘Right now, the UEF will use any possible tactic to try and discredit you. It could prove problematic if they dig up the full extent of your other self’s actions.’  
  
‘I’ll keep your advice in mind.’ Saazbaum told him.   
  



	83. Counterpoint

_The graph above shows the proportion of crime and the ethnicity of criminals in question. A government push has been mandated to ensure that the quota of officers in each regional police department are equal in terms of Martian and Terran representation, to reduce bias. Extraterritoriality has been foregone on both Earth and Mars in favour of a streamlined legal system._  
  
Night came and morning went. True to form, he was up at the break of dawn a few hours before sunrise, wondering how in Heaven’s name he was going to fight this new diplomatic war against the UEF and overcome the disloyal Orbital Knights at the same time.   
  
A few hours later, coinciding with the resolution of the gift puzzle – the courier had apparently been avid North American birdwatcher who kept bluejays as a hobby and deliberately mishandled the packages, forcing the UEF to withdraw their earlier statement, a list of rebel demands from the rebel Orbital Knights. Thankfully, Keteratesse was not among them.   
  
At 05:00 he was met with a cool reception, Schnei had taken up the offer. Menzies was awake, if not blinking a little sleepily, but saluted anyway.   
  
‘You know,’ he said, ‘I swear that something like this has happened before.’  
  
‘Déjà vu, you mean.’ Schnei replied. ‘Or maybe in your past life you were equally unqualified for the job.’ She left in a huff, but not before requesting a moment in private with Saazbaum which he granted.  
  
She shoved a thick stapled A4 typesetted document into his chest. ‘Check line 55,’ she said.   
  
‘Why are you giving me this?’ He asked, bewildered.    
  
‘I was initially going to use this to blackmail you, but I decided against it.’ She shook her head. ‘At least if you’re a murderous bastard, I figured that you’re an honest one.’  
  
‘I could charge you with first degree espionage. This is treason of the highest order.’ he said, skimming the text. It was a list of all the Vers sleeper agents, including the ones he’d missed in the three year gap. She’d clearly downloaded a copy off the Landing Castle systems using her access as head of HR and nuked the original.   
  
‘That threat would work better, I suspect, if this version of you wasn’t such a sentimental fool,’ She said impatiently. ‘Line 55. Just remember that.’   
  
She departed soon after the comment, without any further words. Once she was gone, he took the advice. The fifty fifth row was filled with the name ‘Rayet Areash’. He glanced at the cell next to it. The contents caused his heart to skip a beat. He frowned, minutely, thinking that he must have misread, then double checked the column labelling. No that couldn’t be right.   
  
That wasn’t right at all.

* * *

  
_Once, on a routine trip, he saw her smiling slightly. It wasn’t a malicious expression or a malicious deed, rather, it was simple genuine happiness of the kind he had never seen on her face before._   
  
_And so their paths never crossed and the threat of mutually exclusive destruction never came to pass. And the bitterness between them thus passed and with passage of time it was gradually forgotten._   
  



	84. Family

_Dear Mum,_  
 _Today Dad declared war on a planet because you slipped on a banana peel again. It was only through the biblical scale miracle involving several large metal robots made by ANCIENT ALIENS which are powered by living metal or actual human minds that we prevented it from becoming a testosterone induced revenge bloodbath. I might have anger management issues of my own too – did I mention I tried to kill my sister again because I hated where I was born? Yeah, about that, we might need to rewrite my birth certificate too._ – R (Collection: Reasons Why I Don’t Think That Adoption is Ever a Good Idea)  
  
It was raining in a soft pitter patter. The apartments were solid conforming blocks of rectangular grey, like stacked tombstones, one on top of the other. Most of the devastation in Tokyo had been cleared away, but some aspects like uniformed bomb squad teams lingered in cordoned off areas, still combing the streets for unexploded missiles.  
  
They hadn’t filled in the craters, though. They still sprawled like dark spiderwebs across avenues and down alleyways. A few of the larger holes had been half-heartedly filled, but the after image of war still shrouded the city.  
  
Rayet padded out of the bathroom in bare feet at the insistent sound of the doorbell. ‘Coming,’ she announced flatly as she crossed the thin carpet and flung aside the flyscreen.   
  
The delivery man held out six glass bottles of milk in a crate. A plate of steaming croissants sat carefully balanced on top of that, causing Rayet’s stomach to growl. It probably wasn’t especially hygienic, however, because the warmth of the plate caused condensation and mist to build up on the necks of the bottles.   
  
‘Breakfast delivery for one Miss Areash,’ The man said.  
  
She hadn’t ordered one. It took Rayet a few seconds to process who was standing in front of her, wearing a floppy dark green hat which covered most of his face.   
  
‘Oh hell no,’ she said, slamming the door in the younger Saazbaum’s face, not wanting to hold any kind of discussion with her least favourite person on both Earth and Mars.  He managed to get his foot stuck in before she could complete the motion.   
  
‘Rayet, please, I just wanted to explain,’ he said. The milk bottles made a clinking sound as he executed the complex manoeuvre of balancing the tray and the plate while attempting to keep the door open. ‘Rayet!’ he said frustrated, but she managed to push the door outwards until Saazbaum and his load fell over backwards and then shut the flyscreen.   
  
‘I don’t know who gave you my home address, but for the record get off my property you stalker before I file a restraining order.’ She shouted. Then, she locked the door, closed the latch, sliding in the deadbolt. She slid down the door so she ended up sitting with her back against the door.    
  
Eventually, the noise outside faded as the martian evidently gave up. Rayet went to fix herself some juice from the fridge and after a while forgot about the whole incident.

* * *

  
Fifteen hours later, when it was dark and Rayet was sitting on her bed which doubled as a seat thanks to her cramped quarters, watching the weather report with an energy drink propped up next to her pillow when her neighbour called.  
  
‘Rayet?’ Arisu said, when she answered. ‘Did you notice there’s a guy sleeping outside your apartment? My rooma mte is too afraid to go outside, he thinks that it might be one of those weirdos. Is he an ex?’   
  
‘What? No!’ She squashed the straw back into the can, hastily. She’d forgotten all about Saazbaum, assuming that he’d wander back to Orlane’s Landing Castle if she ignored him. She hopped off her bed.   
  
‘Ok, I’m going to call the police.’ Her friend muttered something about miscreants but the line didn’t pick it up.  
  
‘What? Arisu, don’t!’ Rayet yelped in horror, but the call had already been dropped. What were her neighbours going to think if they found the head of Martian forces sleeping at her door?  
  
She ran to the door. Outside it was pitch black, a solitary trapezium of light being spilled outside. A dog barked. Saazbaum really hadn’t moved, he was curled up in a lengthwise foetal position along her doorway like a welcome mat.   
  
She grabbed one of his arms, intending to haul him inside but he woke up first.   
  
‘Is it really this late already?’ he enquired, drowsily. His hands were as cold as ice. ‘I thought you didn’t want me to come inside?’  
  
‘That was before my neighbours called the police.’ She stopped just short of shrieking but her eyes were frantic. ‘Get inside now and quickly, before the police come.’ She shepherded him inside.   
  



	85. Someday

_Strangulation aside, my brothers are fighting again. God forbid they try live ammunition this time. I’m not sure if they even have a gun license, but Lt Marito says that it’s a free country and everything pretty much goes. Except killing my innocent sister on the basis of ROYALS BEING EVIL (I mean seriously, if the ROYALS ARE EVIL shouldn’t you kill the Royals responsible rather than some random 15 year old minor who can’t even legally drink? I’m not saying that you’re illogical, but you’re illogical Dad.)_ \- R  
  
‘And you haven’t seen anything unusual?’ The policeman said, business like, holding the data pad. He’d probably been a Kataphrakt pilot during the war, it was implied in his buzzcut and large and stubby fingers which had seen some use. His nose looked as if had been broken twice.  
  
‘No,’ Rayet replied. ‘Arisu just overreacted. She’s just been a bit overprotective lately. The guy turned out to be my dad.’ She only opened the door enough so she could speak without it getting in the way, but the gap wasn’t sufficient enough for him to see the definitely not suspicious figure sitting at the small table warming his hands around a cup of coffee.  
  
‘Thank you, Miss…?’  
  
‘Just call me Rayet.’ She closed the door. ‘Spill.’ She ordered the person sitting at the table.   
  
The food he had evidently intended as a peace offering sat next to him. The milk was probably spoiled by now, a waste as rationing was so critical at the moment. The croissants were likely still edible, but cold. Reluctantly she took one under Saazbaum’s watchful eyes, dragged in a chair from the other room and sat down, taking a bite of pastry. They were stuffed with jam.   
  
‘Very well. I’ll be straightforward, I intend to adopt you right now.’  
  
All the words she was going to say dried up instantly. She wetted her lips. He mistook her silence for confusion.  
  
‘The papers are filled out already, I signed them this morning. They’re ready to be dispatched if you are interested. I know we never had the best of relationships and that I am not even from this universe, but-’  
  
‘No.’ Rayet said. ‘I’m not interested in being your daughter.’   
  
‘Technically we’re related.’ He made adoption sound like a business deal with odds and chances in percentage probabilities, Rayet thought.    
  
‘”Technically”.’ She echoed. ‘Then are we even related in your universe?’  
  
He put his right hand over his face, rubbed his face and then his neck. ‘No. But I thought…’  
  
‘Then you have your answer.’ She paused for a while, then picked up the three used dishes stacked beside the sink and began to wash them. ‘The funeral service for your other self, when is it?’ Above the running of the tap, the water almost masked how small her voice was.   
‘Wednesday.’ He said, then pushed the chair in underneath the table. Turning to leave, he noticed that further towards the wall was a second, smaller table made of pine. Upon it sat the dejected scene of a vase of wilted flowers and a teddy bear missing its right eye.  
  
He made a noise in his throat and walked up to it.   
  
‘What are you doing?’ Rayet said, poking her door in from the kitchen. She was holding a tea towel in one hand, drying a plate   
  
He withdrew his hand from the bear before he touched it, as if the very air around it burned. ‘I just thought… never mind.’   
   
He really did have no idea, Rayet thought, looking at Snafu. That Slaine’s other self was dead along with the hundreds of clones or anything that had really occurred between herself and the other version of him either inside that damned drive which she still had nightmares about or on Heaven’s Fall. Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised since they – Orlane, Rayet and Inaho – had actively kept it from him.   
  
It was better that he was unaware, she knew. But for what reason? Perhaps mistrust remained or perhaps it was out of consideration.    
  
On other hand, the prospect of an entirely clean slate was not entirely unpalatable to her. The person she’d always thought was her father, Wolf, was dead alongside her mother. So was the Viceroy, even now she couldn’t think of him as anything else as the face in droning static of pirate broadcasts, the voice before the missiles fell, so distant that he was as inhuman as the concept of justice or evil. He had been a fact of her life, like the awful truth that her parents were dead, to be acknowledged, compartmentalised and crushed to a pinpoint irrelevance.   
  
Towards the end, the Viceroy had become a perishable human, as mortal, misguided and frightened as the rest. And, on some level, she had accepted that and just when they’d achieved some level of reconciliation, however twisted and however wrong. But the universe had abruptly decided to send her back to square one.   
  
Gaining her nothing, losing her nothing.  
  
She felt almost angry that this Saazbaum had, once again, tried to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. And if he adopted her, what was the use? Sooner or later, he’d leave. They always did, Wolf by the prospect of social elevation and this Saazbaum didn’t even belong no matter how much he claimed that he was moored here for good. If he was even telling the truth.   
  
‘Tch. It’s getting late.’ She said. Sharply inhaled and relaxed. If you didn’t try, you’d never get anywhere, right? Every part of her was screaming that this was foolish, that she’d regret this, that she’d cause the very hurt she was trying to avoid by walling herself off from everyone else, walling out the world.   
  
Saazbaum was still hovering waiting for a response or a sign.  
  
‘Goodnight. I’ll see you at the funeral, Dad.’ Then she shut the door on his astonished face. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. This would take a lot of getting used to.  
  



	86. Requiscat

_If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever._ – An epitaph  
  
On the day of the funeral it rained. It was the third private funeral held in secret that week, the second they’d attended.   
  
Slaine splashed through the muddy grounds, chiefly choosing ground as high as he could manage. He held an umbrella which had seen better days, during its life with its previous owner the stretcher had broken which made the ribs prone to collapse every few minutes, though Asseylum didn’t seem to mind.    
  
She had gotten a little wet, especially since water dripped off the edge of the struts.   
  
‘Maybe next time you should consider getting a raincoat.’ Inaho said, stepping out in an orange raincoat. It wasn’t formfitting, but the plastic gave it a plastic sheen.  
  
‘Eh? That’s the same colour as your Sleipnir.’  
  
‘I like thematic, but also practical clothes,’ He replied to Slaine, adjusting his hood so it completely covered his hair. The draw cords of his outfit swung a little in the rain. ‘Shall we, Princess?’   
  
She took one of his hands warmly. ‘Of course.’ She smiled a little. They walked by the Siberian pines, still spiky in winter, past the patches of frost which still hadn’t cleared. It was almost spring by now, the vibrancy of renewal was in every leaf and every blade of grass ready to reincarnate.   
  
It was a lovely isolated clearing, a small patch of paradise in the aftermath of the war. The bank of the lake lay at the end of the path and shrouded in mist sat four boats. About sixty centimetres in length, each one had been crafted from pine salvaged from a stricken tree felled in a thunderstorm three days earlier. A Russian carpenter had carried out the task at Saazbaum’s request. Orlane was also there. She was carrying a box of matches, hand around her fiance’s upper arm.   
  
Darzana was also in attendance. Though she was wearing a black raincoat, her clothes underneath were navy rather than a black. Surprisingly, Rayet was there too, scanning faces intently. She had foregone the hoodie for a transparent raincoat which accentuated her slim profile. Although, logically they made her appear smaller as she was no longer separated from the world by several layers of white material, the effect was the exact opposite. Somehow, she appeared more striking than before. She wore white.  
  
Opposite them was Besalier. He’d chosen to wear an ascot, a sober grey in colour. The red Martian military jacket had been dropped for a formal suit and tie in dark grey though the colour scheme was dropped at the pocket square for a burst of pale mint. Next to him was Liv in white and black straight, suffused with a grim humour.  
  
Words were said, as the wind ruffled through the trees. Some with light humour, like Slaine, though he stuttered at times, not knowing what was appropriate to say to the people who had been their counterparts in this universe. Other words were condensed and plain, expressed straight from the heart.  
  
A raven alighted with a broken zip stuck in its beak as it sat on a branch, as the matches were struck. The dampness meant that multiple attempts were made before one cinder vanquished the rain, growing bright in a leap of sparks.   
  
One by one, their person set the vessels alight, shrouding the remains of their counterpart alight. Light from the clouds seemed to gather as the bodies, crowned beneath dried reeds, star anise and flowers tied to the masts by Asseylum’s delicate touch crackled, burning slowly in response to the flames. The heavy scent of herbs perfumed the air as the boats were released, drifting out together across the river, down the estuaries and into the seas.   
  
Only Saazbaum’s boat was empty. There had been nothing left to recover. Even if the corpse could have been retrieved from beyond time itself, the man had probably died alone on a world forsaken by the rest of the universe, following in the footsteps of Troyard and the Doctor. When and where, formerly constants, had become variables that would never coincide again, lost and adrift on the seas of histories and futures and might have beens.   
  
A light hand touched Slaine’s shoulder, a thumb gently interspersing itself under the shoulder blade.   
  
‘It’s time to go,’ Saazbaum said, gently as he could, but Slaine’s eyes were still on the morning light shining through the horizon, partly blading through the cumulus clouds like hope incarnate. Halted but still persistent, it travelled onwards, but still dark enough that none could see Orlane’s face.   
  



	87. Horizons

_One of my brothers also has a really brilliant (see: bad) idea that involves trapping Dad in outer space and killing him so he can achieve THE ULTIMATE POWER IN THE uniVERS (see what I did there?) and then themselves. Don’t they know the definition of patricide? Or should our next family presentation (yawn) be on WHY WE SHOULDN’T MURDER EACH OTHER, A GUIDE BY A MASS MURDER SO EXPERIENCED YOU SHOULD JUST GIVE UP RIGHT NOW IF YOU WANT TO BEAT ME followed by live footage of you actually dying to a “thematically appropriate” tune that Dad has picked up from the internet_. -R  
  
Luggage was lying across Slaine’s doorway when he arrived back at Orlane’s Landing Castle. He followed the trail of items which overflowed from the bag, a stick of half unwrapped and partly digested Mentos, a key and a T shirt. He saw an article with a crooked corner pulled out of an old magazine and inverted the direction of his head so he could read it. ‘Are we alone in the universe?’ proclaimed the title in bold black letters above a photograph of the Earth’s surface taken in space.   
  
‘Hey!’ Rayet snapped, hands on her hips. ‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t read my stuff.’ She trundled the one suitcase along with her right hand.   
  
‘Uh, sorry Rayet, I know you were here!’ Slaine exclaimed, tearing his gaze away from the page. The fineprint was drier than it looked. From what he’d read it was a dissertation on the relative benefits on living on Mars as compared to Earth with comparisons made on the climate and natural resources.   
  
‘I’m moving in.’ She said, then without further ado walked into the adjacent room. After placing the suitcase down, the rest of her permanent effects were thrown onto the mattress. She then flopped down.  
  
‘No, isn’t that Inaho’s room?’ Some of the boy’s collection of CDs, antique items used to play music and store data, still lined the shelves and two laptops sat back to back on the desk, lids at half mast. A few files from the Landing Castle’s database where open too, schematics whirring, slices of vertical teal data at eye level in midair.  
  
‘It’s mine now,’ Rayet said, then, turned over on her side, not bothering to unpack, eyes on the screen of the phone she’d pulled from a pocket. She scrolled it with one forefinger now, inserting one earphone with the other hand. ‘It’s not like he needs to pretend to be the Viceroy now, so he’ll be back with the UEF for at least another couple of hours. I memorised the timetable.’  
  
Slaine walked up to one of the opened files and it hovered down to eye level for ease of reading. He then flicked it with one finger. It traced a smooth arc, returning to its folder in an animation ending at the far side of the wall.  
  
 ‘I could show you around,’ he suggested. ‘So you don’t get lost.’  
  
‘I’ve been here before.’  
  
‘R…really?’  
  
‘Yes, who do you think activated or altered drives when Inaho couldn’t? I was his back up in case Orlane needed certain drive work done.’ She shifted her legs.  
  
‘I didn’t know you had an activation factor.’  
  
‘Well that makes two of us. Drawer on the left, there’s a teddy bear sitting on top of it. Named Snafu.’  
  
‘Teddy bears have names?’  
  
‘Well this one does certainly does.’ She frowned. ‘Why are you looking me like that?’  
  


* * *

  
Slaine went out clutching a teddy bear, collecting curious glances from some of the castle staff. Rayet had insisted that he repair the bear and give him back his eye, two spots of colour residing in her cheeks the whole time, something he’d never seen before of her.  
  
When he happened onto an empty part of the Landing Castle, he turned Snafu around. The fabric was a little worn to touch, but the plastic of the eyes and nose was glossy and well-polished. They’d probably been touched often.   
  
‘Hello,’ he said to the bear. Quietly.   
  
Not quite knowing how to continue he scratched his hair. ‘I’ve no idea why Rayet wanted me to have you, but I’m your new owner. I’ll take care of you now.’  
  
It was something of a premonition, he’d always wanted a teddy. And now he had one. He scratched the back of its head absently.   
  
He felt the oddest compulsion to confess to the bear. ‘And I met Dad again, you know. Only he wasn’t how I remembered it, he did some terrible things. Then he left, this time for good. And somehow, I know it’s terrible, but I feel like the weight has been lifted from my shoulders.’  
  
The teddybear didn’t respond as was natural for stuffed toys like it. After a while, Slaine went off to see Saazbaum.  
  



	88. Peacetime

_We all know that Dad will also include a few slides on Yakisoba pan, chicken and chocolate for no particular reason even if it bears no particular resemblance to anything because they’re his favourite foods. For Halloween, he’s suggesting that we dress up as little green people from Mars to celebrate that one time he travelled through time and space with an 800 year old alien in a blue box. I think that he’s getting a little senile, actually._ -R  
  
The newest Viceroy was sitting in his office. He wasn’t alone. Inaho was exerting the minimum of effort, sitting backwards on his chair so that his chin rested on his arms across along the toprail. Asseylum was sitting uncomfortably in another straight backed chair, Rayet was prowling, always moving. She’d removed her shoes and was only wearing her socks.  
  
There was a spare chair for Slaine. He sat.  
  
‘As I was saying,’ Saazbaum said, ‘I’m sending the four of you back to school in the interests of safeguarding your future.’ He was smiling slightly, it gave his face a slightly sinister cast, even though the subject matter itself was wholly innocent.  
  
‘I went to elementary school,’ Slaine hedged.   
  
‘And do you think that level of education is sufficient?’ Saazbaum snapped, waving his hand. ‘Have you considered what you want to do, what you want to be in the future, after this war ends?’  
  
Slaine hadn’t. His entire goal had centred around finding Asseylum. After that, ending the war which had been Asseylum’s ideal had became the priority. But then the Doctor had shown him things, precious things.   
  
‘Cruhteo neglected your education. I intend to remedy that, beginning now.’ Saazbaum’s voice was a touch ominous. It caused Slaine to fidget slightly. ‘Just pick a school you like.’ He softened his voice. ‘There are plenty of Gakuens in Japan, which I believe Inaho would be more familiar with. Or you could pick a college or secondary school. Tertiary education too, if you believe it is more suited towards your needs. Prestigious institutions too, the Ivy League – .’  
  
‘I thought,’ Asseylum cut in, before Saazbaum could continue extolling the virtues of his favourite institutions. ‘That we were going to go home.’   
  
The familiar form of the blue phone box sat at the side of the room. They had been unable to move it without the aid of Kataphrakts. Perhaps a forklift would have sufficed or a tow truck but nobody had wanted to risk the larger portion of the UEF finding out about a time machine. Darzana and Orlane had put together a special workforce to move it. It was far heavier than it looked, but far lighter than its contents would suggest.  
  
Saazbaum passed a hand across his face, looking weary. It was like he had aged a decade. ‘I’ve tried already, Princess. Everything. Flying it. Analysing it. Pressing buttons. Turning knobs. The cursed thing doesn’t make any sense, it just doesn’t respond. The light is always on, it’s eerie as if nobody is home.’  
  
‘Well, you’d hardly expect Time Lords to put in something simple like an on button,’ Slaine smiled.   
  
‘The TARDIS library,’ Inaho explained, riveting heads. ‘Perhaps if we read the books, there must be an instruction manual or some references to TARDISes in them.’  
  
‘We don’t possess the decades or centuries to solve that little conundrum.’  
  



	89. Spring

_We didn’t really have plants or animals on Mars, outside of the faux climate controlled greenhouses. Sure, some of our scientists developed carapaced organisms capable of surviving in the dust storms but those weren’t really the same_ – Second generation migrant. Has spent time on Mars and on Earth.   
  
Winter passed, spring came along the next day, a climate warmed along by the damage of Heaven’s Fall. Flowers sprouted from what had been deep hoarfrost.   
  
It was midmorning that Calm accidentally stumbled across Saazbaum and Orlane sitting together, doe-eyed, hands slipped into one another walking along a blue river filled with snowmelt and surrounded by blossoming trees, as they shared a cupful of icecream. All the time, looking deeply into each other’s eyes as their fingers entwined.  
  
He hadn’t meant to stare or intrude either, but his eyes grew bigger and bigger as the sharing became spooning each other icecream and the feeding became fullblown kissing. He was located quite literally between a rock and a hard place and was deciding on the best path of escaping unseen when Inaho popped out of nowhere.  
  
‘It’s only love,’ Inaho remarked dryly with a little smile, after Calm had stopped flailing after being scared out of his skin. ‘They stop by once a day at this time. Afternoons are spent west of here.’ He indicated a worn path leading up to the mountains.  
  
‘Inaho, not so loudly,’ Calm hissed in fright.  
  
But it was too late. Saazbaum and Orlane had broken off their kiss, one looking puzzled and the other with his eyes dangerously narrowed. He walked up to the suspect and now vibrating bush, hands tucked behind his back, as one occupant unsuccessfully stopped Inaho’s head from rising. The bush began twitching, and four long limbs emerged pelting their way out, their scratched owner with leaves and twigs stuck at various parts of their clothing which were gracelessly shed as he ran back from whence he came.  
  
Inaho, on the other hand, glided upwards from the bush as elegantly as a Christ figure from water. It was to him that Saazbaum addressed his question. ‘And exactly how much did you see?’ He demanded.  
  
‘Absolutely everything.’ Inaho reported, amused that Saazbaum’s voice was not entirely devoid of dawning horror. ‘There’s no need to panic, I was only here every second day. I was busy the rest of the days, you see.’   
  
The boy then strolled back in the direction of the Landing Castle whistling a tune that Calm had taught him. It floated up to Saazbaum’s newly reddened ears until he was out of earshot.   
  
 Distracted thus, the Orbital Knight did not notice three more figures – Rayet, Slaine and Asseylum halfway up a pine with their arms wrapped around the bark. Asseylum, the toppermost of the three, sat on Slaine’s shoulders.  
  
‘Let me see,’ she whispered. The two figures below her around the tree jinked around to accommodate her. Rayet put up with them.   
  



	90. One

_A Terran could love a Terran and a Martian could love a Martian. But a Terran and a Martian in love were still two race traitors, until a new resolution co-opted by newly-elected President Darzana Magbaredge and her Martian counterpart Viceroy Saazbaum formally outlawed racial discrimination._ – Excerpt from a broadcast  
  
It surprised nobody when Saazbaum and Orlane were engaged and married just two days later. Rumours had been milling for months, and as far as anybody was aware, the match between them was a given, though the exact implications of time travel had been forgotten by the majority of the Landing Castle following the brief Terran occupation which, as far as anybody remembered, had never actually occurred.   
  
Even the UEF delegates, which had apparently been busy following their last thwarted their attempt at removing the Viceroy, had decided against taking any direct action although rumours about an upcoming war tribunal abounded, despite their distance.  
  
Which was why it was such a surprise when Darzana turned up. ‘I received your invitation,’ She said. Then smiled.   
  
‘Wouldn’t your superiors be annoyed?’ He queried. The venue that Besalier had rented was large located in the administrative centre of Novosibirsk, it was large and cavernous, with concentric arrays of chandeliers set in the ceiling like crystalline candles. Windows ran from the ceiling to the floor, from there they had a view overlooking the city.  
  
‘Oh, as far as I’m aware, official policy doesn’t extend to sick leave. The promotion also helped.’ Darzana replied, not sounding the least bit sick. Neither did the rest of her crew, who had all showed up for the occasion.  
  
It turned out that she’d been elevated to General, the first in decades, hopping from promotion to promotion, the commendation to commendation. Four silver stars now emblazoned the pocket of her military greatcoat and she’d acquired a general’s hat from somewhere, although it spent most of its time atop the coat holder which had been dragged out of the TARDIS to sit like a miniature tree in the middle of the Landing Castle.   
  
Although the war had essentially been a stalemate, the GA had slapped his knee and declared her use of tactics integral to the winning of the war. She had, humbly, tried to shift the praise to Inaho but his contributions were completely overlooked, though the boy hadn’t seemed to care.   
  
Inah had simply tucked the parts of his fingers exposed by the fingerless gloves into his pockets, looked into the sky and specified ‘Politicians don’t like admitting that a child was the cornerstone of their strategies. Besides, the war is over, it’s not like ranks and commendations mattered.’ Slaine thought otherwise, airing his thoughts respectfully and politely. Saazbaum had been teaching him to restrain his more impulsive behaviours in a manner befitting of an Orbital Knight.   
  
Besalier, who’d taken up guest lecturing at universities, flew in from Brazil to attend the ceremony. To arrive on time he had conducted an impromptu borrowing of the nearest Knight’s Kataphrakt. He was the first to congratulate them on their nuptials.   
  
The marriage itself was a quiet, unassuming and private ceremony. Slaine’s normally untameable blonde hair had been slicked down for the occasion. He and Inaho wore black tuxedo, while Asseylum acted as the bridesmaid, choosing a slender though elegant white dress. Earrings glittered in her ears.       
  
Orlane and Saazbaum walked down the aisle hand in hand and said their vows while Besalier acted as the Officiant and kissed, attracting soft pitter patter of applause from both the Martian and Terran attendees, who, in spite of every stereotype, mingled perfectly in a non-insulting fashion.   
  
The most memorable part of the ceremony was the sheer size of the four tiered wedding cake with delicate icing shaped into flowers dominated the table. Meringue flowers decorated the edges and an enormous red rose which faded to ice blue like crackled porcelain at the edges. It shone in the light of chandeliers.  
  
For the first time since anybody had known him, Saazbaum exercised unusual restraint in gluttony, serving up the slices to his guests before plating his own and even then he ate only a modest chunk. The altruism made Orlane laugh good naturedly as a chunk of her slice snuck like a silent ninja on his plate whenever his attention was suitably diverted. Spirits were high all around the table. Even Marito appeared to have shrugged off his despondent demeanour and while his advice and stories were somber his voice was lively. The only possible exception was Liv who was merely unobtrusive, picking at the food thoughtfully with her spoon.   
  
At 8PM sharp the dancing began in the adjacent ballroom. Like the other room it was spacious and at night, gleaming points of all colours emerged from windows, from undestroyed shopfronts and from the office buildings of people working late night shifts, of soldiers which had returned to fill the city’s numbers, of children that stood in front of the display windows of toy shops gazing at colourful curiosities which spun, moved and rocked.   
  
‘I have no idea how to dance,’ Saazbaum admitted, envy tinging his tone as a solitary vehicle passed by outside on the roads. ‘Never did have the chance to learn.’  
  
‘That’s fine,’ Orlane said, a fine glimmer in her eye. ‘We can struggle together, you and I.’ They exchanged smiles. Saazbaum laid his head close to her shoulder, almost close enough to hear her heartbeat as they danced and awkward though they were they were, a harmony existed in their movements, a synchronicity brought to life.  
  
Ballroom music was streamed from Inaho’s laptop through the speakers hung in the upper corners of the room and soon the newlyweds weren’t alone on the floor. Enthusiasm made up for a general lack of finesse, though it seemed that Nina had enough experience to make up for everybody, which put Darzana in a teasing mood, though she eventually partnered off with Marito though they didn’t quite meet gazes.  
  
Though Inaho himself had little technical skill, he listened alertly for the beats in the melody, dancing in time with Asseylum as he led the Princess in a slow and graceful waltz, explaining the theoretical details he had picked up from the internet. Later, partners were exchanged with Slaine taking Asseylum’s hand in slow soft circles, Marito went with Orlane. Nina participated with Calm, her dress twirling expressively as they moved.   
  
This time, Inaho opted out. He found Rayet lounging at the back wall, drinking a can of soda. She had opted out of a singlet top and shorts for the event and was uncomfortable into a slightly too big dress shirt and a pair of black trousers rather than the ever popular dress and corsage that most of the other females were sporting.  
  
‘I don’t really enjoy dancing,’ She said, in response to Inaho’s question chugging her drink down. She didn’t enjoy something that feminine. Saazbaum probably understood a little when he footed the bills for her kendo and karate tuition, but what Rayet really enjoyed was archery or the shooting. Whether it was gun or bullet, the satisfaction of hitting the target with precision was unmatched.   
  
In a way, she rather enjoyed their irregular father-daughter relationship. He never insisted on much, she almost always referred to him as Saazbaum and in return he called her Rayet. Occasionally the two of them would meet up outside a villa for sundaes. He always brought Slaine with him. Other than that, the sum of their interaction was mostly limited to mealtime, and although she spent more time with Orlane than with him he didn’t object. Mostly, he did what he wanted and she did what she wanted and it was a perfect arrangement.  
  
Inaho knew, too. It wasn’t the absence of emotion which defined him but the subtler cues of his body language. ‘You don’t enjoy the music,’ he said. ‘When you listen to your own collection, you unconsciously time your movements to the beat.’  
  
‘It’s a little slow.’ She mused, setting the can at an angle. It toppled over and rolled onto the floor, so she scuffed it back under the table with a shiny black shoe. ‘I prefer more modern music. House. Electronic, that sort of thing.’  
  
‘I could change it for you.’ Inaho said. The very model of a Prince Charming. He even chose to show some degree of emotion.   
  
‘Who says I haven’t tried already?’ Rayet smiled mischievously and took his hand. Inaho bowed.   
  
In the background, the classic ballroom switched to a more percussive EDM, which amused everybody. Besalier was an unexpected fan and though Saazbaum did raise one eyebrow at her once from over Darzana’s shoulder the change largely passed without comment. She did twirl a little with Inaho and after she tired, he sought out Inko while Yuuki watched on, smiling.    
  



	91. Philosophy

_Anyway, ok, I admit I was exaggerating a little. Nobody was trying to kill anyone, but given our pasts… you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, right? Sometimes old habits just die hard._  
  
 _And you’re the only one who can put a stop to Dad’s madness, you know? He loves you so much that he’d set the whole world on fire if you asked him to (please don’t, those third degree burns aren’t pleasant) but it’s also kind of cute the lengths that he’s willing to go for you.  If I have one small request, Mum, it’s that you bring back my overdue library book (you know, the one with the yellow cover?) with you when you return. I miss you so much. We all do._ -R  
  
Once the school semester started, Slaine and Asseylum transferred to Japan with the rest of Inaho’s friends and found themselves neck deep in learning which attracted a significant amount of grumbling as the tests began to pile up. Calm, particularly, took the transition back to civilian life badly and Slaine’s greatest weaknesses were apparent in humanities and mathematics. The Princess, while a fast learner, also had a lot to catch up on so Inaho eventually took it upon himself to set study sessions after school and to write up practice tests at the expense of his own time.    
  
It wasn’t unusual for Asseylum’s attention to wander. It was guilt, the feeling of powerlessness as she was caught like a bird in a cage whilst the rebuilding happened around her. Again.    
  
‘This can’t go on,’ She said at one point. Inaho agreed in sympathy. At lunchtimes and spare periods, they all snuck outside school grounds, dressed as workers and secretly joined an assortment of volunteer groups and workers on dole in the reconstruction effort. It was hard effort, sanding, sawing and moving girders around and while Asseylum was unaccustomed to labour, but she also seemed to delight in it. It was an hour or so of respite before they rejoined the class outside the classroom.  
  
Krachkoff was waiting for them. Judging by the cars he had lined up, he’d arrived on the first day when they did, possibly in a Martian transport shuttle following just behind the private UEF supplied jet Darzana had sent to transport them.    
  
‘You tailed us, didn’t you,’ Inaho said. ‘It was a calculated security risk.’  
  
The Head of Security inclined his head. ‘Even then, you constitute a significant drain on the resources,’ the man’s voice was dry. ‘Particularly when my men have to watch out for all of you.’ He meant the Terrans. ‘There will be quite the consternation if the princess is murdered a second time and Orlane personally requested that I look after the young lady.’ He bowed.  
  
‘Young lady’ Rayet glared.  Somehow, in spite of the school uniform which she’d adhered to, she still managed to look scruffy. ‘Tell Mum to stop worrying.’ She said in an irritated voice. Behind Orlane’s cool demeanour lay a shrewd heart. It was probably what had attracted Saazbaum’s attention in the first place. The fact she’d revealed her hand now meant-  
   
‘Which leads me to the bad news. The UEF has staged a war tribunal against your father and you are being called upon to testify at the proceedings. All of you. A reminder has been issued that Earth territories fall under jurisdiction of UEF laws and that telling all or partial untruths is a prosecutable offence.’  
  
Wonderful, Rayet thought, biting her lip.  
  



	92. Persuasion

_(Laughs) No, I’m not talking about him because he was my husband or that I’m putting him on a pedestal, but that being in close proximity with the previous Viceroy meant that I was able to gain an appreciation for the kind of work that needed to be done. To be absolutely clear, I did not agree wholly with the way he approached the task of ruling the Earth and unlike him, I am more than willing to work with my Earth counterpart President Magbaredge in the open_. – Live Broadcast event, late February.  
  
Count Besalier, strictly speaking, did not loiter around the doorway draped by two enormous crossed UEF flags, but dawdled serenely and aristocratically, hands tucked into his chequered pockets as he glanced occasionally at the doorway.  
  
A very young secretary came to meet him, a manila folder held in both hands. She had delicate and petite features.  
  
‘Can I help you, Mr…?  
  
‘Please call me Seb,’ He offered and approaching a touch closer than she would have preferred, smiled charmingly and produced his hand from his pocket. ‘I am here to see the President.’  
  
‘Uh.’ She said, then: ‘The President is very busy right now, but I’m sure that if you could leave your phone number and identification with me -’  
  
Mars didn’t exactly have phones, Liv had taken back hers and Besalier hadn’t had the chance to buy one. His expression didn’t change one jot, though he sighed internally. ‘May I please have your phone number?’  
  
‘That’s Count Besalier and I’d suggest you stay as far away from him as possible unless you want your life ruined.’ Liv said squarely in a low tone, appearing from behind, causing the secretary to flush and step away. ‘Especially when you aren’t sure about his motives.’  
  
‘Liv,’ He tutted, wringing his hands indignantly. ‘You do always do seem to think the worst of me, don’t you?’  
  
‘When you constantly exceed my expectations? Yes.’ She said, slightly amused. ‘Let’s get going.’  
  
‘So you are both… Martians?’ The secretary said, confused.  
  
Liv pointed as Besalier. ‘Just him. I’m… well… from somewhere you’ve probably never heard of right now. Just give it a few years and a little shifting between realities.’  
  
From the young woman’s expression she was completely lost. ‘You’re an alien?’  
  
‘Humans colonise plenty of planets.’ She began explaining but the young girl ran off.  
  
Besalier simply shrugged. ‘She’s probably going to raise the alarm, now.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not sure why I hired you as a spy in the first place when you share my plans with the first person I come across. Really now. That was uncalled for.’  
  
And with a hmph that Saazbaum would have been proud of, Besalier strutted off.  
  



	93. UEF

_Four locked doors in a house, four walls in a room that keeps everyone else out and the world in together with a sealed window that won’t open._ – The Art of Overthinking  
  
 ‘And you call me paranoid,’ Besalier huffed in irritation. The entire place had been built like a maze, the building extended seven floors upwards and the UEF’s President had arranged for not one but four alternate dummy offices identical in appearance located at different points in the pentagonal building, though they ignored these thanks to the intel. According to one of the Count’s informants, the President used a different office every day to reduce the likelihood of assassination.   
  
Apparently it had once been the military headquarters, but it had been repurposed to home the Civil Administration.  
  
‘He’s most definitely in though, right?’ Liv asked. She’d dropped the skirt for trousers and a shirt which matched the wall and the carpet respectively in soft shades of beige, the uniform of a clerk. There was little point in wearing black unless she wanted to stand out like a sore thumb.   
  
‘He is chiefly heading upstairs,’ He replied, not walking fast enough to attract attention. Besalier held in his right hand a decorated cane containing a concealed blade and a gun in his pocket. Liv was unarmed, carrying the briefcase. ‘Towards the fifth office, Portico entrance and 5E415 as of fifty-nine seconds ago according to the footage.’   
  
They took the escalator up. It wasn’t elaborate but like other modern Terran affairs it was tastelessly frosted and inset with metal circles.  Bowls of dying plants had been placed along the side in a separate encased avenue behind the railing in a poor attempt to provide a natural decoration.    
  
‘Perhaps it’s not in my position to pry but I was wondering where you were intending to go after this last assignment.’ He tapped a few fingers along the hand rail.   
  
‘Assuming that we don’t accidentally reinitiate hostilities between Earth and Mars? Probably Paris.’ She said frankly. ‘There was a recent earthquake, I was going to provide some assistance. I have a medical background, you see.’  
  
‘Ah. The city of lights. Another culture rich establishment lost to the war.’ There was a hint of sorrow in the Count’s voice. ‘I was pondering a question. Why didn’t involve your other employers in our little debacle?’ he gestured towards the heavens with one ringed hand.   
  
‘After threatening to nuke the Earth with null field missiles to remove a time paradox?’ Liv’s mouth twitched. ‘With the Doctor’s people, you stay as far away from them as possible. I used to think that at least one of them was honourable… trustworthy. Then he sent us a bunch of disguised poisons packaged as medicines. It’s the reason why I left.’  
  
‘I’m sorry.’  
  
‘Every civilisation in the universe grows up thinking that it revolves around them and that their technology is the most superior, but then they discover that they aren’t alone and that their expectations were false. The Time Lords never learned that lesson.’  
  
‘Well. They do sound like Mars.’ Besalier spread his hands.  
  
‘But you’re willing to learn and are willing to coexist. That’s the difference.’ Liv grimaced. ‘The Time Lords, on the other hand… If a little backwater planet is going to grow up to be a threat, might as well run time backwards over it and erase it from existence? Right? Fundamentally altering reality so that whole races were never born is worse than genocide on any scale.’  
  
She stumped off.

* * *

  
The office was filled with the stench of alcohol. Used bottles sat, not on racks, but on the floor and meandered across the table horizontally. Two enormous UEF flags sat crossed above the heavily curtained window.  
  
Besalier tilted one bottle which was lying on its side, causing a thin trickle of alcohol to leak out of the neck. He looked at it with faint disgust.  
  
‘Lord General,’ A slurred voice emanated next to the bookshelf. ‘I though I sent you away…’  
  
They walked over to the UEF President lying on the floor in front of a collection of glass cups and helped drag him into the large backed chair behind the desk and sat him up. An imprint of his right arm had been left on his face. He groaned and hiccupped, then tried to stand up.   
  
The Count set the briefcase down on a table, and flipped open the top. He took out some of the sheafs and set them down in front of the man.  
  
‘Wouldn’t it be compromising, Jeremy, if these documents were broadcast live?’ He thumbed through them and selected one at random. ‘Ah!’ He cleared his throat. ‘Funding from the UEF was secretly shunted to a Tanegashima research centre to find a way to allow the mind to live after death. Unethical experimentation with Martian technology. Among the test subjects include the corpses of one hundred and twenty seven child clones and the use of an energy source which almost ripped the Earth in half.’  
  
The President of Earth blanched and shrunk back in his seat, eyes darting with a moist slowness back and forth. He was visibly sweating. ‘Seb, did you come to kill me?’ He whined almost unintelligibly. ‘How did you get past the guards?’  
  
The Count ignored him and found another page, hands juddering in anger. ‘Ordering the destruction and attacks upon Martian food supplies with missiles when Earth is already in a famine. Ordering the destruction of transport vessels in direct breach of peace treaty. One would almost begin to think that you want to start the war again. Please don’t allow me the chance to discuss the numerous other sins of the UEF since its inception and the destruction of the moon.’  
  
‘Are you blackmailing me?’ The Terran said, slumping further into an alcohol induced haze.  
  
‘Of course not, you imbecile. You and your paranoia and your foolish delusions.’ He jabbed one finger. ‘Whilst you entertain yourself with numerous drinking games, I must deal with a rebellious set of Orbital Knights looking for the slightest provocation to return to war and conquest. And what do you do, threaten our chances at peace by capturing Saazbaum. Do you have any idea how many termination orders I’ve received in the past month?’  
  
The President cowered further. ‘The war tribunal, it wasn’t my idea…’  
  
‘And a wonderful war tribunal it will be when I drag its name down with you. I tolerate your poor political skills and your lack of ambition, but this time you are too much of a hindrance. Withdraw his sentence or commute it. You remember our time at university together, don’t you? You were never cut out for politics and now is the time to admit it.’ Besalier towered over him, glaring. It was as if the shadows in the room had broadened his stature.   
  
‘You can still resign,’ Liv said. ‘There’s always that option.’ She held out a pen. The man claimed it reluctantly, looking as if he expected the Count was about to shoot him in the head at any moment.  
  
Besalier was.  
  



	94. Plans

_In the end, three charges were laid against the Honourable Viceroy of Mars. Firstly, the charge of crimes against humanity and incitement of direct and public incitement to commit genocide and the dehumanisation of the peoples of Earth as terrans or inferiors to be exterminated under the UE Genocide Convention. Secondly, the un-necessitated and wanton destruction of cities and countries and thirdly the summary execution of prisoners of UEF prisoners of war and civilians._  
  
‘I should have known.’ Darzana said. ‘Give me the act of abdication Besalier. The one you got the president to sign.’  
  
It was a staring match, neither willing to back down. She could tell. ‘I just want to read it,’ She sighed.   
  
He pursed his lips, then nodded and handed it over. Darzana promptly tore it into two perfect halves, rotated it and tore it again then dropped the remaining fragments into a wastepaper bin, shut the lid and handed it to the clerk. ‘Burn this,’ she said, ‘and don’t breathe a word to anybody what happened here today.’   
  
‘You really are foolish,’ The Count said darkly when the other woman had left. ‘If we dropped this incompetent,’ He pointed at the hungover man, ‘from his position perhaps I could help elect a more suitable president to candidacy like yourself.’  
  
‘I’m a soldier, not a politician. What if I wasn’t the one that ended up finding you? Right now, we can’t afford a power vacuum, not even a temporary one.’   
  
‘Decisions made in moments of passion rarely are well thought out.’ He said, bringing both hands to rest on his cane, creasing his face slightly in a smile. ‘And there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do to further my own gain.’   
  
‘Should I treat you like the Martian threat you are?’ She replied lightly.   
  
‘I do as I please. I’m not beholden to you as you seem to think I am.’ He retorted, stung. ‘If you and I can’t settle our differences, over Saazbaum then I’m afraid that there is nothing for me here. Good day.’ He intended to sweep out but Darzana caught his arm first.  
  
‘Who said I didn’t have my own plan?’ she said, eyes dancing merrily.

* * *

  
Saazbaum steepled his fingers as he lay back on the inflexible mattress, trying to sleep. He was surrounded by three concrete walls and a fourth plastic one with small regular holes drilled in it. The cell was larger than most other cells, possibly a benefit of being an important political prisoner but it still held the feeling of a cell with the walls too close.   
  
He drifted off, his mind clamouring to claim a dream. A dull thump sounded outside, immediately drawing him back to the waking world with its hard steel bars and tables, chairs and waste bucket nailed to the floor. He scowled.   
  
Outside, the guard dressed from head to toe in military gear and shod steel boots moved to avoid his glare. Though the man wore a dark visor to cover his eyes, Saazbaum sensed fear as a very tired and irritated shark would, not out of resentment or malice but with a grumble.    
  
A rattle and a shuffle later and another prisoner was admitted. Inaho walked by. The only hint that they knew each other was a brief glance passed between Saazbaum and himself before he vanished with a click into another cell out of sight.  
  
After a while, the process repeated. Again, Saazbaum tried to sleep with no avail. This time, Darzana walked by. Though her hands were cuffed, she moved her index, third and fourth fingers in a brief approximation of a wave on the way by before she was led into another cell.  
  
He gave up on sleeping entirely when Orlane, the entire crew of the Deucalion, an enormous number of soldiers he didn’t recognise, Slaine, who smiled in greeting, Krachkoff, a cheery Besalier in suitably rich chequered maroon, several Brazillian congressman he didn’t recognise and finally Princess Asseylum bobbed by with a friendly expression and Rayet by her side, face schooled into a neutral expression, all of whom showed themselves into cells.   
  
Plagued by acute curiosity and not a little worry he got up and moved as far towards the plastic wall. The guards were seemingly in a deep whispered discussion and he never received a reply when he asked about the situation.  
  
In the morning at the crack of dawn, two guards held the door open as Saazbaum was released without any objections. The UE Chief prosecutor in black with two white bands across his front was beet red surrounded by barristers and defendants. The President wasn’t in attendance, he had bolted himself into a safe hole and claimed to be an invalid, but everyone knew that he was afraid for his life and had actually retreated underground for safety.   
  
‘You handled this well,’ Besalier whispered out of the corner of his mouth, ‘You obtained the desired result. But, in the process, you undermined your President’s authority, making him look the fool.’  
  
Darzana kept her eyes forward as cameras flashed.   
  
‘If he abdicated, he’d retreat with most of his reputation intact. But now, everyone knows that he’s just a public figurehead.’   
  
‘Is that bad?’ She whispered back.  
  
‘No. Having a puppet gives you more legitimacy. But how long will it be before the lame duck stops quacking?’  
  
‘Are you implying that I’m a tyrant? Besalier?’ He’d gone quiet, eyes on the small pink haired figure in a wheelchair. An attendant stood behind her, ready to assist her.  
  
‘Not now.’ He said, and walked over to greet the figure, pasting a winsome expression over his articulate features.  
  



	95. Summer

_Good evening, this is 41st time that I have spoken to you from this office and from the Nation which we have come to regard as the UEF… I always tried to what is best for all of us, but, not everything lasts forever… I tender my resignation, not as an end, but as a beginning. I wish President Magbaredge all the best in the days ahead, not with bitterness but sincerity from my soul. May the grace of the heaven’s shine upon her ability from this day henceforth._  
  
 _Spoken at 4:36 PM, broadcast live from the White House._   
  
The end of spring brought a period of disconnection. The limited number of Aldnoah drives on Mars were brought in and split evenly between the two planets. Activation Factors were generated, reassigned and removed from trouble makers.  
  
No attempt was made at manufacturing new drives, as from what they could discover from little bits of literature and data from the TARDIS, Troyard had substituted the sentience of the metal in the drives for living minds and as far as anyone knew there was no working substitute. Troyard’s work and techniques were incinerated and instead the energy shortage was made up using the hydrogen fusion technology the Doctor had left behind.   
  
‘Exactly like the sun,’ Inaho had said as the project scientists built a larger and somewhat cruder version of the Doctor’s reactor to power cities and suburbs. The majority of power plants had been destroyed in the war which posed problems considering the nuclear fallout.   
  
Repairing Mars’ biosphere, on the other hand, finally bore fruition.  A co-ordinated Earth-Mars mission was sent with operational Kataphrakts to mine the asteroid belts of the solar system. Water, oxygen and minerals were extracted for a joint terraforming effort and various atmospheric gases were imported over. Rooting around in the half buried ruins of the planet had also revealed a half dead biosphere manipulation system which had probably been left by the former occupants.   
  
Once the term had ended, books in the TARDIS on agriculture were collected. Written in alien languages which were incomprehensible without the TARDIS’ translation circuits, it was not unusual to see Saazbaum, Inaho, Slaine and Asseylum paging through the texts, searching for hints on ending the food crisis. Wooden models were built and then demolished, notes were scribbled in margins and materials listed outright, through sun, rain, hail and snow, they sat and read. Sat and read. Sat and read some more.

* * *

  
Inaho and Asseylum were in the lower basements handling the technology. The hologram hovered in the air, two ribbons blooming into schematics and diagrams as trays of fruit seeds and grains were incubated, transforming into seedlings and branching into plants at an accelerated pace. Though the process sacrificed yield for speed, enough plants could be grown simultaneously that it wasn’t a drawback.   
  
Once the next batch of crops were grown and the timer set, the two left the Landing Castle heading upwards.  
  
‘Hmm?’ Asseylum said, watching large transporters package crates of crops into containers which were loaded into airplanes. Calm stood on the landing strip, directing airplanes to land and take off.   
  
‘A new supply line.’ Inaho said as they rose in the lift. ‘We’re making enough fruit, vegetables and grain to feed a generation.’   
  
‘You don’t sound happy.’ Asseylum said, stepping out onto the sun.   
  
‘Well, there’s still a lot of work to be done. Establishing proper distribution. Ensuring that the cold chain is followed. ’  
  
The entire open surface of the Landing Castle had been converted into lush green. From where they were standing, miles and miles of the destroyed landing surrounding Novosibirsk had been converted into acres upon acres of patchworked cropland and pastures which had been terraced.   
  
They were greeted by the sight of two people working together with shovels, spades and trowels. Several more pots of grown plants sat next to them within easing reaching distance for replanting. Though it had been initially odd that the Saazbaum was fond of gardening with Inkho in the first place, frequency had finally reduced the oddness.  
  
‘Nao? Could you hand me the water can?’  
  
Inaho handed her the implement, being careful not to spill any water. Dragonflies and birds flew lazily through the sky and a pair of Saazbaum’s chickens stalked their way across the surface of the Landing Castle, claws clicking and the tiny silver bells tied around their necks to avoid frightening any new staff tinkled. They had left the TARDIS permanently now that they were grown and had stopped huddling under the heating lamp left next to Saazbaum’s desk for the express purpose of sheltering the birds, gaining weight and fluff in equal proportions.  
  
‘Insects need less feed and produce a lot of protein, vitamins and minerals. Then, there is the consideration of how many greenhouse gas emissions that large herbivores produce. Therefore, insects are more efficient than keeping food animals.’  
  
‘Oh?’ Saazbaum spoke. Smug, in spite of the fact that his auburn hair was sticking to his forehead after spending so long in the sun digging. ‘Mass production, however, is only one aspect. The second most important factor is taste.’   
  
The rest of the afternoon was spent drinking iced lemonade. Upon returning from an evening stroll along the promenade with Orlane he learned that the Emperor Rayregalia Vers Rayvers had passed on in his sleep. It was with a hint of regret that he cancelled the plans to travel to the Alps and to meet with a UEF’s administrator later that evening.  
  



	96. Autumn

  
_‘You’re in huge trouble and no amount of bowing and scraping will get you out of it.’ She said lazily. ‘Vanishing like that down to Earth without communicating in a single instance for months. I’d almost think you’d abandoned our cause altogether. Although I do have a better explanation.’_  
  
 _‘Indeed.’_  
  
 _‘I know a fraud when I see one. Being a fraud myself.’_  
 _(--Names have been redacted as neither participant has given consent for the conversation to be reproduced.)_  
  
In the fall, the weather cooled considerably and autumn leaves coated the ground below the trees. Rayet took to programming drones to play hopscotch underneath the wild pines, but the draught of wind was often enough to throw Inaho’s creations off balance, though his airborne planes, still contained slivers of Besalier’s former Kataphrakt, flew with ease.  
  
A despondent Asseylum returned from Mars. In the wake of the Emperor’s death, determined to have been of natural causes though some hints suggested otherwise, the mourning period was skipped altogether when Second Princess Lemrina Vers Envers mounted a brief and bloody succession challenge for the throne. Saazbaum was called up twice as Viceroy to testify in the period, treated equally with threats by the conspirators for his abandonment of the cause and persuasion. But it was Asseylum, who, faced with a crippled sister who disavowed and hated her royal blood, suggested that Mars abandon autocracy altogether.  
  
‘You want to create a democracy?’ Saazbaum asked, brow furrowed.   
  
‘Four terms. We could call elections, divide the government into three – judicial, executive and legislative.’ She replied. Her half-sister agreed. ‘What could possibly go wrong?’   
  
And it, seemed, everything did go wrong. Somehow, a third party had managed to rig the election process by exploiting a legislative loophole and split a region controlled by Count Hoffen into hundreds of small provinces, weighting their representational vote innumerably in his favour. A dictatorship was called and after a brief spate of violence the man was shot three times in the head and killed by a mob of protestors, still disgusted by the concession of Aldnoah to Terrans.   
  
A middle ground was eventually found through the use of an escape clause, the power of the Princesses would be shared jointly until their deaths and the administrative regions would be given votes depending on their population.  
  
Still, as Asseylum admitted to Slaine later, her sister hadn’t forgiven her. When she folded paper cranes later in the evening after they’d finished their allotted tasks she did so with her sister’s name on her tongue and her wellbeing in her heart, changing stacks of paper into hope so that they could finally fly free, not knowing that Lemrina, too, could see her tears.  
  



	97. One Year Late

_An inventory of items in Count/Viceroy Saazbaum’s pockets: [1] a small amount of unused thread, [2] a golden button and [3] a ray of hope that this happiness would never end._   
  
Like a silent frost, winter crept in. It was the anniversary of the day the Doctor and Troyard had vanished and the blue time machine sat like a graveyard, the light lit up but with nobody home, dust gathering in bunches around it.  
  
Someone, possibly Calm, had braved the cold and the height to hang a trail a string of festive lights along the sides of the Landing Castle outside, loosely fixed in place with bendable ties. Though they had long since run out of power, the reflections created by the halos of light circling the apex of the Landing Castle lit the lights from within, as if pinhole sized jewels had been placed in their centre. A few trailed across the windows and were visible.  
  
Saazbaum and Orlane danced, hands pressed to the small of each others’ backs and a few crackers recycled from Christmas and New Years’ were lazily pulled in celebration by the well-fed staff. It had been a mass reunion and Marito, Darzana and the rest of the guests were sitting in a small semicircle while Slaine, Inaho and Asseylum watched what was probably an amusing video clip and told stories. They’d settled on novels for the moment. Rayet laughed a little as well, but felt a little uneasy, while the cat, Wolsely eyed Saazbaum’s chickens like a hawk, tail held high above the tips of his ears.   
  
It was the glass, she decided. Landing Castles were supposed to be immune to condensation but either the properties of the windows were beginning to wear off due to a manufacturer fault or it was really beginning to become foggy and dense. She walked up to one and was about to foolishly brush the moisture off it when Inaho read out his latest passage from the novel.   
  
“’I was on the point of crying at her, ‘Don’t you hear them?’ The dusk was repeating them in a persistent whisper all around us, in a whisper that seemed to swell menacingly like the first whisper of a rising wind. ‘The horror! The horror!’”  
  
The sky outside chose that moment to rumble with a thunderstorm and a wicked bolt of lightning could be seen in the distance. ‘Couldn’t you choose something more cheerful? Or more modern?’ Rayet asked reproachfully of Inaho, to hide the fact that she’d jumped out of her skin.   
  
The boy was blanker than he’d been all week. ‘Inko wanted a classic horror story. Isn’t that right?’  
  
‘Yes!’ She said, flushing slightly. ‘Isn’t night the best time for it?’  
  
‘Conrad doesn’t write horror.’ Rayet shot back.   
  
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Rayet, couldn’t you just let it go for once?’ Nina said, finally snapping. ‘You’re always so pessimistic and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of entertainment for one night.’  
  
‘She’s right,’ Yuki said.   
  
Something large hit the side of the Landing Castle hard enough to cause cracks to radiate from the centre. ‘Good grief,’ Darzana said, rising. ‘I’ll talk to Saazbaum about it. You guys stay back from the glass.’  
  
‘Actually,’ Inko said, shivering slightly. ‘I take it back, I don’t think this is a great time for a horror story. Is it just me or is it getting a little cold in here?’ Frost had begun to form in patterns along the cracks.   
  
‘No.’ Inaho said getting up too. ‘It’s not getting colder in here, it’s getting colder outside and the drive is struggling to compensate for the difference in enthalpy.’  
  
Whatever hit the window did so again and this time Rayet could see an enormous black silhouette of something trying to get through. Winged. It emitted a piercing pterodactyl like screech and leathery appendages were flapped. They stumbled back, returning to the metal corridor, but not before a thin smear of light rose from the floor.  
  
‘You know, I always seem to wonder if I’m an hour too late or I’m an hour too early. I’m sorry, is this not a good time?’ A man said, rambling slightly stepping through the crack, wearing a bottle green cloak and a cravat.  
  
The screaming began and continued after a raptor shape fell in through the Landing Castle, beaky and toothy mouth agape with spittle launched itself through the opening and its maw closed around one running form.   
  



	98. Void

_There is harmony in the in the stars, in nature and in our souls. Even in our deepest loneliness we are all intertwined by the Music of the Spheres – the resident melody of the universe._  
  
The Doctor barged into the room, clothes and unruly hair slightly askew and wet from the condensation. Inaho, Slaine and Asseylum followed in his wake, Rayet a distance behind.  
  
‘We’re going. Now.’ He said, walking in small circles, making small turns. ‘You haven’t moved the TARDIS, have you?’   
  
Saazbaum’s face was completely slack, devoid of any expression. For the first time in months, he had felt the key that Liv had left in his possession, cycle between being too hot to touch and burning like ice. ‘One entire year has passed in your absence since you were presumed dead.’ He didn’t move, didn’t even take a step, just shut in his emotions, loosely clutching Orlane’s hand.    
  
‘It was very difficult,’ The Doctor said in a low urgent voice. ‘Troyard’s experimentation ripped the timeline free and pushed it one year forward. One year until our realities aligned. For a full hour.’   
  
‘I heard noises.’ Orlane said, a little pale. ‘Surely those things…’  
  
‘Can tear through solid glass and metal?’ The Doctor said, barely pausing. ‘Yes, they feed on time disturbances, things passing through the time vortex. What Doctor Troyard did, he created a direct conduit from the vortex here. Your other self sealed that breach when he sacrificed himself, but as long as we’re here – you, me, Inaho, Slaine and Princess Asseylum and the TARDIS we irritate the wound a little more. That’s why we have to leave and now.’  
  
Saazbaum made a little noise then in his throat, then, a noise of so much pain and loss that it hurt to hear. ‘I have to stay,’ he gasped. ‘This is where I belong. Here. I don’t ever want to leave.’  
  
The Doctor shook his head. ‘We’ll destroy this place if you stay.’ He shouted above the shredding of metal. The entire Landing Castle juddered and a thin stream of aged metal fell like sand from the ceiling. ‘How many deaths will be on your hands this time?’  
  
Another bolt of unnatural lightning struck, this time it sizzled evaporating a large chunk of the room.    
  
‘Saaz.’ Orlane said, then drew him into an embrace. ‘Don’t be sad.’ He did not cry, as he had one year ago, on the eve surrounded by his sins. He had since then learned that daring to hope and dream for something which had already ended before it began would always bring pain. He mourned, but not for himself. For Orlane, who had lost him not once but twice and who he’d found not only to lose again, for Rayet, who in all his unknowing deceit had lied to once again. For Besalier, who he’d never say farewell to, for Darzana whose kindness he’d never be able to repay.  
  
‘Someday,’ She said, ‘we’ll meet again. I swear it. Across every moment in time and in every reality you travel to, you will never be alone. Remember that.’   
  
‘We had on good one year,’ he whispered back then tilted his head forward. ‘If that’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me.’  
  
And she kissed his forehead and ran her fingers through his hair, pressing in so close together that they almost merged, one limb into another, one heart into the other. Their lips touched so softly they could have been kissing a breeze, soon here and quickly gone. Rayet watched them, expression as unfathomable as a closed book, but her eyes were utterly at peace.  
  
Just a little longer, as the interplay of light and sound rumbled outside split the night in a primal orchestra, as a beast hunted and humans fled.     
  
Just a little longer, perhaps they would fly.   
  



	99. Epilogue

_I never enjoyed finishing a book. Oftentimes, I would remove the last page so that the story would continue forever in my mind, untainted and unvarnished by an author’s finality._ – A Journal of Impossible Things  
  
He never did ask her to come with him. The begging and the pleading sat on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t sum up the courage to voice his desires, though he clung to her in those few precious moments like a person dying of thirst for water.   
  
Of course, he understood the reasons intellectually, even as Rayet meaningfully listed them. Orlane would ensure that the fragile alliance between Earth and Mars didn’t fall apart and Rayet would help her. But his heart never quite understood what his mind did in sharp and logical terms, like a surgical knife which caused only the most minimal bleeding.   
  
He stepped away as if he was watching his actions in the distance, merely watching them, throat full of emotions, eyes beseeching as they grew smaller and smaller in the distance until they weren’t there at all. When the Doctor’s hands touched the console, they faded back out into the void after bursting through a fistful of stars.  
  
It was only after he thought that Slaine, Asseylum and Inaho had well and truly gone into other parts of the time machine that tears streamed down from Saazbaum’s face, in split tracks as rain would silently clamber down the branches down a tree to be united at the trunk.

* * *

  
Outside the rebuilding was happening. The frost was cold in the long winter, but warm with the sounds of human laughter, filtering in through the crevices between the trees. Children packed snowballs together and laughed, unaware that they were being watched.   
  
Besalier lazily spun the artificial planet formed by the projection of light with one finger in the darkened room, the thumb of his other hand hooked under his chin, the other fingers supporting his face. ‘Perhaps you should consider taking tobogganing up as a hobby.’  
  
‘I-I’m not sure about that.’  
  
The Count’s half shadowed face lifted an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Don’t let your heritage hold you back, Slaine.’ Then he smiled, surreptitiously. ‘I want you to choose your own path.’  
  
‘But you did want me to marry Lemrina, milord?’  
  
‘That too. We can’t exactly have a loose cannon running around, can we? There is no telling what she will do next.’ Besalier cried, made extravagant gestures with his hands.  
  
‘So… Does that make you a hypocrite?’  
  
‘My dear boy, you have the most charming grasp on vocabulary. We’ll make a clever politician of you yet,’ He said in smug tones, charmed. Inside his head, the cogs of the plans were turning, the chickens and the seeds that his son had so kindly forgotten had been moved into place, the time machine prototype had been wheedled out and best of all, he’d obtained the contact details of Liv Chenka’s employer. Secretively, as was his modus operandi, of course   
  
He mulled over the name of the Time Lord in his mind, turning it over and examining from all sides and smiled a smile of satisfaction that was all angles. In the darkness, no one could see his eyes grow unkind as he contemplated one final checkmate.   
  
It wouldn’t do for all the players to be separated permanently, now would it? He swiped out on a whim, fingers gently brushing the matrix of light, causing it to collapse and the planet to fall, as all things inevitably did.

* * *

  
A lone phone played out a ringtone.  
  
‘It’s a call for you. Mum.’ She held it out. Hopes, futures and reconciliation, all of them.

* * *

  
Saazbaum smiled then. At ease. Amongst the stars.    
  
  
  
  



End file.
